


Walking Back

by InterwebsEqualsLIFE



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Except they get better, F/M, Implied Relationships, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Spoilers Season 4 Episode 5, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-01-03 02:49:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterwebsEqualsLIFE/pseuds/InterwebsEqualsLIFE
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suddenly pain seared across Rick's nerves and he choked at the intense fire now in his chest. He remembered this agony from when he’d been shot more than a year ago, before this apocalypse had started. The two men crumpled, the bullet having passed through Daryl’s chest before fragmenting into Rick’s. He turned his head to see Daryl struggling for his last breaths. Rick regretted the decisions he’d made that had brought them to this. As his vision faded around the edges and each breath became shallower and shallower his last thought was: “God, if only I had known then what I do now.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pilot

Rick cursed as adjusted his grip on Daryl. They had gotten separated from everyone else. The other man was limping something fierce from a bullet he’d taken in the thigh. Carl had run back to up to the prison when bullets had begun to fly. Rick prayed that he had been able to collect his sister and anyone who had survived the epidemic and fled. Tyreese and the Army doctor—Bob?—had come out to help but both had been gunned down. Rick had yet to see Michonne, he wasn’t sure if that was good thing or not as he stared the Governor in the face.

 

The man never flinched as bullets whizzed past his head and walkers lumbered up to him. Just efficiently dodged and eliminated threats with deadly intent. Daryl continued to lay cover fire as the pair tried to make their way up the prison yard to where there was more cover. Suddenly pain seared across his nerves and he choked at the intense fire now in his chest. He remembered this agony from when he’d been shot more than a year ago, before this apocalypse had started. The two men crumpled, the bullet having passed through Daryl’s chest before fragmenting into Rick’s. Morbidly, Rick thought that it might have even entered in the same place as that bullet from, what seemed to be, another life.

 

He turned his head to see Daryl struggling for his last breaths. The man had been loyal to him almost from the start and Rick’s foolish inability to eliminate the Governor, to treat him as the threat he was, had gotten his partner killed. Daryl had been the one to take his burdens when Rick had crumpled under the weight of Lori’s death. Daryl had been the one to help him heal, to help him be intimate with someone again. Looking at the man who had become like another part of him Rick regretted the decisions he’d made that brought them to this. As his vision faded around the edges and each breath became shallower and shallower his last thought was: “God, if only I had known then what I do now.”

 

+=+=+=+=+

 

Disoriented. Rick concluded as he found himself staring at a white ceiling. That was probably what he was feeling right now. Looking to the left he thought he might be in a hospital.

 

“Hershel?” He croaked. No answer. He turned his head the other way and his eyes alighted on a familiarly hideous vase. Its gaudy blue faux-china print and withered flowers caused a feeling of dread to settle in the pit of his stomach. This room… it was the same one he’d woken up in when the world had first ended. Somehow he was back at the beginning of this entire apocalypse mess. Gingerly he levered himself out of bed and shuffled over to the en suite bathroom for some water. He opened the blinds and stared out at the ruined world.

 

Eventually he managed to bring himself to venture out of the quiet sanctuary of his hospital room. He stole the shoes off a nearby corpse and took the dark stairwell down but just before exiting the building he stopped. Except for the walkers barricaded down the hall from his room he hadn’t seen any. If the walkers had only recently cleared out there might be some supplies to be scavenged out of the now abandoned hospital. Rick leaned against the wall and considered his situation. He was unarmed in a building that had been overrun at some point. Was the possibility of antibiotics worth the risk? He thought of all of the people in Cell Block A, and decided that yes, it was worth the risk.

 

He carefully picked his way over to the hospital’s pharmacy without coming across any walkers. The pharmacy itself was a mess but it didn’t look like it had been raided yet. The only problem was that he didn’t have anything to carry the meds in. He ended up emptying a former nurse’s overlarge purse and using that instead.  Vaguely he recalled Hershel advising Daryl to grab anything with a “-cin” or “-cilin” at the end and found that some of the labels described what they were, like “anti-viral” and “steroid”. In the end the purse was bulging with all he’d grabbed as he stepped into the sunlight and turned towards home.

 

It was depressing, Rick concluded, seeing his home so empty. He tried not to stare at the blank white walls as he methodically changed into some proper clothes and moved the medicine into a larger duffle bag. This had been his home; a symbol of his and Lori’s commitment and love. He had confessed to Daryl once, late one night after the Governor had disappeared, how much it had hurt him to enter the camp at the quarry and  _see_  Shane and Lori’s relationship. The pain of knowing that they had been fucking for a while with just a glance had been agonizing. He had moved on, allowed Lori to settle back at his side and ignored Shane’s jealous looks with that pain churning in his stomach. He understood that she had thought him dead but for her to turn around and sleep with another man when he’d only been dead for a few weeks—it said so very much about her loyalty to him. Their marriage had essentially been over the night Shane had died. Even then it had taken six months for Rick to even feel tempted. And, while she probably hadn’t cheated on him before the world went to hell, she hadn’t seemed to care enough to mourn him for very long either. All of this moved through his mind as he diligently packed away any food that had been left in the pantry and what was left of their toiletries. With that done he tried to think of what else might be useful before he remembered his father’s Bluejacket Manual—a sailor’s handbook, full of survival tips and knots and other things a sailor might need to know—being in their office. Thinking that it might have some handy information he decided to try and find it before locating Morgan and Duane.

 

Hidden at the back of the bookshelf he found a sheaf of papers. Rick’s knees buckled when he realized that he was holding divorce papers in his hands. His chest ached. Had Lori truly been so unhappy? If at this point she had already given up on their marriage he can understand now why she was so quick to jump into bed with Shane after his proclaimed death. Rick knew that when he met up with the group at the quarry that he could pretend to have never found these papers, that he could do as before and bury the betrayal he felt and try to keep his family together, but he wasn’t sure that he was strong enough to carry the burden of knowing their future, leading them all and enduring the pain. His and Lori’s separation would be hard on their family but they were strong and maybe Shane wouldn’t become as unhinged without Rick as a romantic competitor. He only allowed himself a few moments to grieve the end of their marriage before getting up, gathering his supplies, and leaving his former home forever.

 

Duane still ended up hitting him over the head with his shovel; and Rick found himself more grateful for them taking him in this time than he had the first time he had lived this life. He now knows what it takes to trust someone in the new world, and the cost of each meal. This time, Rick insisted that the pair went with him to Atlanta. Morgan was reluctant to move on from where his wife’s corpse wandered but Rick couldn’t live with knowing their fate if he let them stay. Eventually he managed to convince them to join him.

 

They combined the gas from their cars and got a lot closer to Atlanta but still ran out before making it into the city. Morgan told Rick to go ahead and find the refugee camp. The road was empty and open so the pair would be fine until he could come back for them with another car or more people to help carry the supplies. Rick was leery about leaving them alone but he knew that there was no way all three of them would survive the masses of walkers in the city itself.

 

Despite his best effort to not repeat his mistakes he still found himself driving out of Atlanta without Merle Dixon. On one hand Rick had to admit that he was glad Merle wasn’t with them. The Daryl of this time would never open up and realize his own strength with Merle around to constantly belittle him. On the other hand, he felt like he was betraying his Daryl by leaving his brother to fend for himself. At least the addict hadn’t been left chained to the roof this time. There was no reason to return to Atlanta and Rick knew he had to do something to help Guillermo and the Vatos before a group came through and killed them. Maybe he could convince everyone to go back into Atlanta for some of the much needed melee weapons?

 

Rick had employed the same tactic as before to escape the city, telling Glenn about Morgan and allowing him to flash by in his hotrod red sports car. Morgan had the car alarm disengaged before Rick had pulled up in the box van. They transferred the gas from the sports car into Morgan’s hatchback and grabbed the battery and anything else that might be useful before abandoning it across the open lane of the Highway with a sign warning travelers away from the city. Morales drove the van while Rick followed him. Glenn spent the first part of the drive watching the red car diminish into the distance while sighing despondently. Rick had forgotten how young and immature the former pizza boy had been at the start of all this and the dramatics earned him a chuckle. The camp was a raucous cheer of activity when they pulled up and everyone began to seek out their family members. He was happy to see them all healthy, whole, and together.

 

“DAD!” He heard his son cry and seeing Carl, still so young and innocent, took his breath away. Rick collapsed to his knees, clutched at his son and took comfort in the familiar feel of Lori’s arms around him. The reunion was ruined when he caught the speaking glance between Lori and Shane. When he averted his gaze away it landed on someone he didn’t expect to see. Daryl. Not only was he in camp when he should have been hunting, but there was recognition in his eyes. He  _knew_  Rick. The redneck chuckled at seeing his surprise.

 

“What’d ya do ta earn this fresh Hell?” He asked, familiar wry grin on his lips. Rick just laughed and clutched his son tighter. It was  _his_  Daryl, the same one who had had his back for two years, who had walked away from his brother for him, died with him. That’s when Rick knew that it would all be alright. Rick knew they would survive this because he had Daryl at his side and the pair of them; they could do anything.


	2. Episode 2:Guts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick has to have a series of very important conversations.

            Rick and Daryl clasped arms and pulled each other into a brief embrace once Carl and Lori let go, earning them both confused looks. Rick ignored the looks and set about trying to talk to Lori privately. It was surprisingly easy to distract Carl with the task of helping Morgan and Duane set up one of the group’s spare tents. With Carl and Shane occupied with the new members of the group and Daryl sent off with a look, Rick was able to pull Lori away for a private conversation in “their” tent. When they were alone she was quick to cup his face with her hands and lean up to kiss him tenderly. But before she could he grasped her hands in his and put them between their bodies.

 

            “When I was at the house,” He began, “I thought that my father’s Bluejacket manual might have useful information in it.” Her face paled, remembering what had been stashed away behind the manual he was talking about. The evidence of that foolish decision which she had hidden away like the dirty secret it was. “I found the divorce papers, Lori.” He told her as she stepped away from him in horror. In one day her dearest dream and most wretched nightmare had come true. After a moment Rick continued. “I think what bothers me the most is that for all your preaching about how I never talked to you, you couldn’t even tell me that you thought our marriage was beyond hope?” He rubbed his face with one hand and blinked the tears away. He couldn’t afford to breakdown, this world was too unforgiving for that, and this was only the first heavy conversation of the day. He still had to talk to Carl, and Daryl didn’t know that he’d banished Carol before they’d been shot. Lori’s eyes were brimming with tears and she opened her mouth a few times as if to speak but no words came out. After a moment he continued.

 

            “And then I walked into camp and I can see how you and Shane are together, that I wouldn’t have even been cold in the ground before you—“He stopped and looked away from her tear streaked face. The pain in his chest was almost unbearable. She clutched his sleeve trying to explain herself through her sobs.

 

            “He told me you were dead, and he took care of us, and with everything going on I felt so dead inside. I just wanted to feel alive again, Rick. You don’t know what it’s like in this-this hell.” She cried. Trying to plead with him, to justify herself and earn his forgiveness.

 

            “I woke up alone in an abandoned hospital; not knowing what was going on or if you and Carl were safe. And you were _fucking_ —“He spat, angry and hurt. She flinched back from his angered whisper, each word like a physical blow. “—you were fucking my best friend when I’ve only been unconscious for two and a half months!” He hissed, careful not to raise his voice and draw anyone’s attention.

 

            “He told me you were dead.” She whimpered, shaking with shame and pain and fear of what ugliness he’d say next. He was quiet for a moment, gathering himself, hands clenching and unclenching uselessly by his side.

 

            “I think you were right.” She looked up at him with hope in her face. “Our marriage is beyond repair. The State of Georgia doesn’t really exist anymore to grant us a divorce, but they also aren’t really around to uphold our marriage either. I guess we’ll just have to move on from today as separate people. You’ll be Lori Miller and I’ll be Rick Grimes and Carl—“He swallowed, unable to look at her face anymore. “—Carl will stay with whoever he wants to stay with.” When she didn’t immediately say anything he turned and left the tent. Daryl stood a couple yards away leaning against a tree with all the casual and dangerous fluid grace of a great feline. He stepped in front Rick, deliberately barring his path until the taller man gave in and slumped into him, taking comfort in his presence. Theirs was a relationship of easy silences and subtle affection. Daryl didn’t have to touch him at all to make him feel better.

 

            “We’ll need to talk later to figure out what we’re going to do. I should also probably tell you about our Carol—“Rick murmured into his shoulder.

 

            “None of tha’s goin’ anywhere for a while. I’ll wake ya up for my shift at watch, we’ll talk then. In the meantime ya should prolly talk to ya boy.” Daryl soothed. He threaded his fingers through Rick’s hair once before prodding the other man to stand up straight. It was just in time too as Lori chose that moment to leave the tent, eyes still obviously red-rimmed and puffy. She kept her head down as she pushed past them towards one of the clothes lines. Rick sighed, he still loved Lori and hated that he was causing her pain but at the same time a tight band had been lifted from around his chest and he felt lighter than he had in a long while. He had already mourned their marriage, and he no longer had to hide the pain he felt at her betrayal. There was a certain catharsis to freeing himself from the entanglements of Lori’s drama. After a moment of watching her hunched shoulders he headed towards where Morgan and Duane had been settling in.

 

            Carl ran up to him with the biggest smile when Rick came into view. He vaguely recognized the tent closest to Duane and Morgan’s as the one Daryl had used on Hershel’s farm. Rick smiled and embraced his son for a moment before kneeling so that he was eye level with Carl. Carl’s smile faded into a frown of concern. Rick swallowed.

 

            “I love you.” He started, combing his fingers through his son’s hair affectionately and giving him a small smile. “I—selfishly—have decided to end your mother’s and my marriage.” Carl looked alarmed. Rick rubbed his shoulders soothingly and continued. “I know that this decision hurts you and I am so sorry, but it was something I had to do because I’m not strong enough to protect you and the group and endure this hurt I’m feeling. Just because I’m not married to your mom anymore does not change my love for you.” Rick told him as Carl began to openly cry. His heart ached and he pulled his son into his arms to rock him gently back and forth. “It doesn’t even change my love for your mom. All it changes is that we won’t be sharing a tent. I’ll still protect and provide for her but only as I protect and provide for everybody else in camp.” They sat like that for several minutes. Carl crying, and Rick holding him close. Eventually Rick had to continue. “I’ll probably bunk down in Daryl’s tent. You can sleep with me or your mom; I’ll not make you choose between us. Hell, you can sleep with Duane or Shane if it makes you feel better. But I expect you to listen to us when we tell you to do something and to stay within sight of an adult at all times. Ok?” He asked pulling back to see his son’s face. Carl nods. “I love you and I will always love you.” Rick told him seriously, looking his son in the eye. With a sniffle Carl murmured the sentiment back to him. Rick gave him a sad smile and another hug before sending him off to check on his mother. He watched his son go before quietly collecting his things and putting them in Daryl’s tent.

 

            Later that night Carl and Lori sat near Shane on the other side of the fire. Lori kept shooting him angry hurt looks and Carl just stayed slumped against her side, worn out. The group was a lot more subdued this time around until Amy opened her mouth.

 

            “So how does divorce even work during the apocalypse?” She asked, Andrea frantically trying to shush her.

 

            “Same as marriage I suppose.” Rick answered honestly. Luckily, before he had to answer any more painful questions about his divorce, Ed Peletier decided to add an extra log to his fire earning him a reprimand from Shane. Rick caught a fierce look on Daryl’s face when he looked at Carol’s scum of a husband and he put a restraining hand on the hunter’s shoulder. Daryl glared around the pit darkly, angry but not at the others. Andrea, who had been subtly watching Daryl most of the night, finally spoke up.

 

            “I’m sorry that your brother was left behind, Daryl.” She apologized. “He was a loose cannon but he was still your family and you’ve done nothing but help us since you joined our group.” Daryl grunted and continued hacking angrily away at the stick he was honing into a crossbow bolt.

 

            “He only allowed us ta join so he could rob ya’ll blind.” Daryl admitted. “We’re kin but he always seemed ta be leavin’ me behind. Anyways I’m not too worried; he’s the toughest sumbitch I know. If anyone can survive this shit it’d be him.” Sensing the groups discomfort with Daryl’s admission Rick tried to change the topic by calling out to his son.

 

            “Carl?” The boy stirred a bit and mumbled something in response. “You want to go to bed, son? I can carry you to bed in mine and Daryl’s tent—or your mom’s—if that’s what you want.” The boy roused a bit more and Rick got up and circled around the fire to his side. Lori glared at him, arm tightening around her son’s shoulders.

 

            “Wanna sleep wif you.” Carl slurred brushing off his mother’s arm to reach for his father. Rick gave her a stern look when she opened up her mouth to protest.

 

            “Let him decide.” He rebuked quietly before reaching down and hoisting the nine year old into his arms. He quietly carried the boy into Daryl’s tent and laid him down on the bed made of old blankets. Tenderly Rick removed the boy’s shoes and tucked them in together so that he could just lay there and savor the peace. The first time the world had ended Rick had been so focused on not being crushed under the weight of the situation he had plowed forward from task to task to avoiding thinking about what had become of the world—neglecting his duties to Carl. While knowing the future was its own burden it was easier, somehow, this time around.

 

            At around 10 at night Rick woke to Daryl shaking his shoulder. Carefully Rick tried to extract himself from Carl’s slumbering sprawl. The boy slept deeply, not stirring the slightest as the two men left the tent. Rick waved to Morales as the man passed off the rifle and headed to bed. Quietly they climbed onto the RV and took up watch sitting back to back. After a few moments of silence Daryl spoke up.

 

            “What happened to Carol?” He asked quietly. Rick sighed, rubbing his face.

 

            “She killed David and Karen.” He answered after a while. Daryl stiffened. “I talked to her about it, after. She was trying to prevent the disease from spreading. She was sorry it didn’t work but didn’t regret that she did it. ‘Something had to be done.’ She said.” Rick paused, but Daryl didn’t say anything. “I told her that I couldn’t have her back at the prison. We filled a car with supplies and she drove off. I’m sorry, Daryl. And I’m sorry that I didn’t bring Merle back today. I-“

 

            “Ya don’ have ta justify leaving Merle behind.” Daryl interrupted.  “I admit that I wouldn’t be the man I am if he’d come back with ya the first time. As for Carol, well, I guess ya have a chance ta make up for that now, dontcha?” Rick heaved a sigh, happy that they could move beyond these hurts. He leaned back so that his head rested on the huntsman’s shoulder.

           

            “I’m glad that I get this chance. I’ve been trying to think of how we’re going to save everybody, and it’s such a mess. I’m not sure I could do it with you hating me too.” Rick admitted quietly. They sat in silence for a while enjoying the peace of the night. “I’d like to help Guillermo and the Vatos somehow, it doesn’t sit right with me, knowing that in four days they’ll be dead if we don’t do something.” Rick announced. Daryl didn’t answer. “I know that going into Atlanta is a risk, especially since we have the guns already. But, I was thinking, maybe you could leave on a hunting trip and visit them instead? No, the city is too dangerous for one person, Glenn shouldn’t have been sent on his own—“Rick began to ramble, thinking out loud.

 

            “I don’t think there’s much that can be done even if we do warn them.” Daryl interrupted. “But, if ya want to try, the group needs more long knives an’ crowbars and whatever. Start training people to protect themselves wi’out a gun, save ammo for later. Glenn an’ I can go inta the city tomorrow lookin’ for weapons and signs of Merle. I’ll stop at the nursing home an’ try ta warn ‘em. We’ll be back by dark and help when tha’ herd passes through.” Rick smiled.

 

            “Thank you.” He said. Daryl scoffed and shifted uncomfortably at the praise. “How are we going to meet Hershel and the rest of the group? I don’t want for Carl to get shot again or to lose Sophia, but I can’t think of how else we might meet the Greene family. Lori’s pregnant by now, and—“

 

            “They’re our family too. After more’n a year with ‘em I wouldn’t rest easy not having ‘em with us and knowin’ that herd’ll be passing through. Nah, better we find a way. I’ll take another tumble down a ravine so we have an excuse ta stay in the area if I have ta.” Daryl asserted. Rick snorted.

 

            “I really hope it doesn’t come to that. We’ll head that way and pass the farm when we back track because of the jam on the highway. Hopefully that will get us started without any injuries.” He decided.

 

            “I was thinking—“

 

            “No, I don’t believe it. Daryl Dixon, thinking.” Rick teased earning him a shove.

 

            “Shaddup.” Daryl grumbled at him before continuing. “I was thinking tha’ herd probably woulda completely passed the farm ‘cept that Shane decided to shoot the place up at the wrong time. Maybe, without the need to compete with ya for Lori, we can keep his trigger happy ass in line. Keep the farm for the winter, or longer, if Woodbury don’t find us.”

 

            “We’re going to have to deal with Woodbury and the Governor eventually, but I agree, it’d be better to spend the winter at the farm if we can. Maybe move to the prison in the spring. It’s easier to fortify, safer.” Rick agreed, stretching. “If you’re going to go into town tomorrow you’ll need your sleep. I’ll finish your watch. I wake that skinny guy, Peters?, at dawn, right?” Daryl answered affirmatively, getting up and passing the rifle over. Rick watched him climb down from the RV and duck into the tent before he settled himself in for a long night.

 

..oo00OO00oo..

 

            Rick woke Daryl up when he came in off his watch. Shane gave Daryl the evil eye from the fire pit Carol was cooking breakfast at. Rick must have told his former partner the plan because the man didn’t say anything but Daryl could tell he wanted to. Glenn took some effort to wake. The Korean man was always tough to rouse but Daryl managed using what he’d learned over the 18 months living with him. Glenn groaned at the idea of going back into the city so soon but didn’t argue with the terse redneck. The pair took off for the city in Daryl’s truck before most of the camp was even awake.

 

            Daryl was frustrated to find that most of the pawn shops and sporting goods stores they came across had already been picked through. The pair of them still managed to collect a decent amount of weapons and supplies by the time they had worked their way to the nursing home where the Vatos were holed up. Looking at the sun, Daryl figured it was close enough to noon to warrant eating lunch. Neither of them had eaten breakfast, Daryl insisted, because the quicker they adjusted to only one or two meals a day the easier it would be to stretch food when it got lean in the winter. They sat in a corporate office to eat their lunch of crackers washed down with coke and Daryl took the time to separate out the three duffle bags of stuff they’d collected. He lifted a tile out of the ceiling and carefully balanced the two fullest ones on some nearby interior supports, when they didn’t come crashing back down through the ceiling he replaced the tile and turned to Glenn.

 

            “We’re gonna go see some people I know. I need ta convince them ta get outta the city in the next day or two.” Daryl told him. “Ya shit for secrets so I won’t tell you. I know yeh’ve got a crap poker face – don’t bother askin’ me any questions.” He pointed at Glenn with one grubby finger. “Seriously, don’t say anythin’.” Glenn spluttered, affronted, as Daryl slug the remaining bag over his shoulder and left the building.

 

            The pair made their way to the Vatos’ hideout without any problems. Daryl kept an eye out for any lookouts and frowned when he didn’t see any. In fact, until they had ducked through the broken window they didn’t see anyone who was alive.

 

            “Stop right there _puto_!” A gang member demanded from a second story window. Daryl put his hands up watching Glenn nervously do the same.

 

            “I’m here to see Guillermo.” Daryl told them eyeing the muscle coming out of the big industrial door. The slim janitor was the last out of the building. He eyed the bag slung over Daryl’s shoulder speculatively. “I’d like ta talk ta ya, privately.” Daryl told him. The Vatos members laughed. “As a show that I’m not here ta hurt ya I’ll leave the bag and my friend with Felipe while he does his rounds with the old farts.” Glenn backed up in alarm protesting that he wasn’t going anywhere with some gangster. Guillermo looked at him suspiciously.

 

            “How did you know about the elderly?” He asked.

 

            “Ya won’t know if we don’t talk.” Daryl evaded, slipping the duffle bag off his shoulder and passing it back to a reluctant Glenn. Guillermo nodded to his crew and led them inside. Once they were in the nursing home the guy Daryl vaguely recognized as Felipe gestured for Glenn to follow him while Daryl followed the Vatos’ leader. Once the office door was closed behind them Daryl spoke up.

 

            “Ya need ta get yer people outta the city.” Guillermo stiffened. “A group is gonna come through the area in the next couple ‘a days and kill everyone here.”

 

            “Your group, I’m guessing.” Guillermo accused. Daryl laughed self-depreciatingly.

 

            “Man, my group’s a quarter yer size and we only have six fighters. It’d be suicide. I don’t know who the group is. All I know is that if ya die—bitten or not—ya don’t stay that way, and in three days this place will’ve been raided and anyone still here will be dead.” Guillermo still didn’t look convinced.

 

            “Most of the old ones can’t go to the bathroom by themselves. Getting them out of the city is just a pipe dream.” Guillermo told him and Daryl gave an exasperated sigh.

 

            “Just haul their fuckin’ asses into a buncha vans, load up a truck with whate’er ya got and get the hell outta dodge. Or, you could not listen ta me and whatever assholes are comin’ ta take yer stuff will kill you all. Fuckin’ whatever.” Daryl vented throwing up his hands. “There’s sum rifles, ammo, an’ food in the duffle, you keep it. Hopefully yeh’ll use it to get outta here.” He answered before storming out. Glenn was so surprised to see him he nearly dropped the Chihuahua he was holding. “Leave the bag and let’s fuckin’ go.” Daryl growled at him. Glenn hurriedly handed the dog over to a nearby old lady and shoved the bag into a startled Vato’s hands before running after the fuming redneck. Felipe sidled up to a frowning Guillermo.

 

            “What’d the white boy want?” Guillermo frowned, deciding what they would do if the redneck was wrong, and what they’d do if he was right.

 

            “How soon can we get some vehicles running and load everybody up?” He asked, turning to the former nurse.


	3. Episode 3: Tell it to the Frogs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick experiences a (relatively) normal day at the Rockdale Quarry camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *For those who were confused about the end of Chapter two it’s referring to a deleted scene that was meant to go between seasons 1 and 2. After the CDC explosion the group decides to spend the night with Guillermo and company only to find that they've all been executed. After barricading themselves in the looted nursing home and spending the night they consolidate vehicles and move on.

Episode 3: Tell it to the Frogs

 

Rick woke up to the sound of insects and people bustling about and chatting quietly amongst themselves. He found some clean clothes just inside the tent flap gladly changed into them. As he walked toward the RV and the center of camp he said hello to several survivors he didn’t even remember. Carol was near one of the fire pits with an ironing board. Part of him felt uncomfortable interacting with her, knowing that he had exiled his version of her. He noticed his clothes on one end of her ironing board and knew he had to go over and thank her.

 

“Good Morning.” He told her.

 

“Morning” she answered with a tentative smile. “They’re still a little damp,” she told him, patting the folded uniform. “The sun will have them dry in no time.”

 

“You washed my clothes?” He asked to start a conversation with her.

 

“Well, best we could. Scrubbing on a washboard ain’t half as good as my ol’ Maytag at home.” She answered keeping her head down and focused on the shirt she was ironing. He leant down and met her eyes.

 

“That’s very kind of you. Thank you.” He told her sincerely. She gave him another shy smile and he deliberately allowed himself to be distracted by Dale so that she wouldn’t feel too nervous from his attention. Spotting Rick’s attention, Dale was quick to wave him over. “Excuse me.” He mumbled politely to her before heading over to the older man.

 

“Ah Rick, I need a bit of a favor. You see, the radiator hose on my RV is going out and I think the one on your box van would be just about the right size. Is there any way you could let me have it?” Dale asked once Rick had walked up to him. Rick thought about it, weighing the van’s potential use compared to the RV’s. He saw Shane pull up in the Jeep with water for the camp. Absently he realized that he should probably find out how his former partner felt about his return and the divorce and get a feel for what he thought they should do next. Dale coughed to get his attention and Rick turned back to the older man.

 

“Yeah, I think—“Rick started to say when a scream echoed through the camp. Paling he began to sprint towards Carl’s alarmed cries. How had he forgotten about the walker showing up in camp that first morning? He immediately put his hand on the large hunting knife on his belt. Lori was on her knees embracing Carl before he got there and a chorus of “Nothing Bit!” and “Nothing Scratched!” rang out. Duane hovered on the edge of the clearing, afraid to move lest he draw the walker’s attention. Shane had his rifle pointed at the creature but was hesitant to fire so close to camp. Without slowing his stride Rick circled the occupied walker so that Duane was shielded from its view and lunged, slamming his knife in its skull before it had time to react. The clearing was silent except for Rick’s panting. He looked up to see Shane’s surprised face and Lori’s appalled one. Carl’s face was tucked into her shoulder as he shook in fear. Morgan charged into the clearing, pausing to take in the scene before rushing to his son’s side. Wordlessly Rick pulled his knife out of the dead walker’s skull and walked over to his son and ex-wife. Some of the other men from camp made it to the downed deer with their weapons at about that time. Rick felt ill at how slow their reaction time was.

 

“It’s the first one we’ve had up here. They never come this far up the mountain.” Dale said, out of breath.

 

“Well, they’re running out of food in the city that’s what.” Jim replied. Rick joined the discussion once he was sure that Carl was alright.

 

“We’re going to need to move.” Rick told them. The other men looked over at his voice. “We can’t fortify the perimeter and we can’t see far enough for a look out to spot them before they’re already on top of us. If we could it would be better for us to set up on the shore of the quarry itself where there are high walls on every side but one.”

 

“The shore’s too wet. The tents would flood every night and the vehicles wouldn’t fit.” Shane argued.

 

“Exactly, so we need to leave. Find somewhere we can easily defend. Besides, we had snow last winter, do you want to still be living in tents when winter hits in a few months?” Rick asked emphatically, they had been huddling fearfully in this camp, clinging to the remnants of “Before”. That had to stop now. They shouldn’t give up on being good people but the line between maintaining their humanity and surviving the end of the world was a fine line to walk. He had thought that they had finally figured out a good balance before the epidemic had hit the prison. Carol’s actions spoke otherwise.

 

“We won’t be going anywhere until Daryl and Glenn return.” Dale told him.

 

“I still don’t understand why they needed to go on another run.” Shane said hotly. “It’s not safe. Not for them and not for us. There was a walker in camp! We should have every man here!” Shane snarled.

 

“Weapons.” Rick answered, holding up his knife as an example. “We only have so much ammo. The sooner we get in the habit of using knives and clubs, the longer our ammunition will last. Yesterday the group only brought back one pack of supplies between six people and we lost a valuable bag of tools in the process. The two of them know what they are doing. It was worth the risk for them to go.” Rick explained carefully. Looking them all in the eye one last time he headed back towards camp passing Andrea and an ill Amy looking at the corpse.

 

“Shane?” Carl asked a little while later when the man entered camp again. Rick looked over from where he’d been helping dismantle the box van. Shane ruffled Carl’s hair, earning him a grin.

 

“Are you still going to teach me to hunt frogs?” The boy asked. Shane looked over at Lori, who was fussing around one of the campfires, before answering affirmatively. “Can Duane come too?” Carl asked nervously. Shane looked at the boys who were becoming fast friends and told them both to get the fishing net. They both let out a whoop of excitement and raced to Dale, tripping over each other in their excitement. Shane walked over to Rick.

 

“You’ve never caught a frog before in your life.” Rick told him with a wry smile. Shane chuckled looking at the two boys pestering Dale.

 

“It’s more to keep them out of everybody’s hair” Shane admitted. After a moment he turned serious. “You ever gonna tell me how you know Dixon?” He asked giving his friend a side-a-long look. Rick wasn’t sure how to answer and didn’t say anything. “I’ve known you my entire life and we’ve never even been close to knowing somebody like Merle or Daryl Dixon. Lori, your wife—“

 

“Ex-wife” Rick corrected. Shane pursed his lips.

 

“Yeah, you and I have to talk about that too. Your ex-wife doesn’t know when you could have met Dixon either. C’mon man, throw me a rope here. What’s going on in your head right now? Ever since you woke up from your coma you’ve-you’ve been different, man.” Rick opened his mouth to reply but couldn’t think of how to explain what he’d been through.

 

“I don’t even know how to explain it.” Rick told him. “I can’t be who I was before the world ended, we won’t survive that way. But at the same time, I can’t let us lose our humanity. It puts us at risk, but if it was easy it wouldn’t be worth doin’. I’m just trying to walk the line between the two. As for Daryl, I can’t really explain that either, most days it feels like I met him in another life. I’m just glad we have him here to watch our backs.” Shane opened his mouth to demand a better answer but Carl and Duane walked up to them before he could. They both put on a smile for the boys and Rick wished them good luck as Shane herded them down to the water.

 

Once they had salvaged everything they could from the truck Rick headed down to the waterfront. Ed, scum that he was, was leaning against a nearby vehicle “supervising” the women who were hard at work on the laundry. The boys and Shane were splashing around on the other side of the beach. Their laughter was a balm to his soul. Rick walked over to the women.

 

“Good morning ladies” he greeted tipping a nonexistent hat to them. Andrea shaded her eyes to look up at him.

 

“Officer, I’d like to report a case of cruel and unusual punishment.” She told him with a smile.

 

“Oh yeah?” He asked. Tucking his thumbs into his belt loops.

 

“Shane and the boys are over there splashing about and keeping cool while we’re slaving away in the sun cleaning their dirty tightey-whities.” She told him gesturing with a soapy shirt. The other women tittered. Rick hummed thoughtfully before scooping up Amy who was standing nearby and starting to wade into the water.

 

“Here, let me help you with that.” He told them before tossing her, shrieking, into the water. He turned to the other ladies with a cocky smirk. “Who wants to be next?” he asked just before Amy resurfaced and jumped onto his back. Startled, he felt himself lose his balance and topple into the water.

 

“Woman Power!” Amy was cheering with the other ladies when he resurfaced. He laughed and began making his way back to shore. He could see Ed, who was now by the truck, say something and Andrea turn to confront him.

 

“--It’s not to listen to some uppity, college educated cooze.” He heard Ed say to Andrea before turning to Carol. “C’mon, let’s go.” He told her beckoning her like a dog.

 

“I don’t think she needs to go anywhere Ed.” Andrea told him.

 

“And I say it’s none of your business. Come on now.” Jacqui threw down the clothes she was washing and stood next to Andrea.

 

“Why? So she can show up with fresh bruises, Ed?” The black woman demanded. “Yeah, we’ve seen them.”

 

“You know what? This ain’t none of y’all’s business, now c’mon!” Ed demanded, grabbing Carol’s arm and pulling her away from the group. Andrea tried to intervene and Ed started yelling. Rick caught his hand before it could come down on Carol’s cheek. Rick clenched his jaw in anger but didn’t say anything, just looked into the other man’s eyes, seeing the cowardice there.

 

“Let go of your wife right now.” Rick told him. He saw Shane approach the group alone out of the corner of his eye but didn’t react to the other man. Shane peeled the man’s meaty fingers from Carol’s arm and helped Rick pull him away from the women. The other man struggled to get free and Shane sent him sprawling with a punch to the jaw. Rick was quick to haul him to his feet.

 

“Resources are scarce now Ed.” Rick told him, throwing his own punch when the other man tried to tack a swing at him. “I don’t like the idea of wasting any on shitheads like you.” He shook the man to make sure he had his attention. “This is your one chance,” Rick continued. “Shape up or we ship you out, and we’re not going to let you drag sweet little Sophia or Carol with you.” Rick threw the man on the ground and Shane was quick to lean over him and yank the man up by his shirt.

 

“Lay a hand on your wife, your daughter, or anyone else at camp, and you are a dead piece of shit.” Shane warned him. “Now let’s find something productive for you to do.” He dragged the other man up the path to camp.

 

“Hey Shane?” Rick called. The other man turned back to him. “Where’s Carl?”

 

“His mother came and took him and Duane back to camp.” Shane answered a look of anger flashing across his face before he continued pulling Ed up to camp. Rick frowned at his friend’s back before he turned to the women to make sure they were alright.

 

“You ladies ok?” He asked. Carol looked shaken but Amy was already comforting her. Andrea was glaring daggers at Ed’s back but seemed alright. Jacqui nodded at him and began to gather up the laundry. They finished the last few articles of clothing and Rick helped them transport it up to camp. Quietly the group cobbled lunch together and Amy and Andrea offered to go fishing for dinner.

 

Daryl and Glenn returned to camp while they were gone. They were each carrying two duffle bags stuffed full of supplies. Dumping his bags in front of the RV Glenn groaned and collapsed dramatically in the grass nearby. Daryl dropped his burden on top of the other two bags with a grunt and went to get a chair from around one of the fires. Chuckling Rick grabbed a chair and settled in to help the other man sort through the bags.

 

“Daryl wore you out I’m guessing?” Rick asked the young Asian.

 

“He’s evil. We only stopped for a break twice.” Glenn groaned back. “And the man doesn’t talk. I mean seriously, we were together for what? Eight hours? And I think that he said maybe 20 words to me if you don’t count repeats.” Rick laughed and handed off a large crowbar to Morgan. Amy and Andrea came swaggering up to camp with their prize. Morales thanked them as Amy handed one string of fish to him.

 

“Whoa!” Carl said as Morales teased Lori with the dozen fish he was holding. He and Duane giggled at the disgusted look on her face. The boys pressed closer to poke at the slimy things.

 

“Yeah, whoa. Where did you two learn to do that?” Lori asked, taking a drink of water. Andrea opened her mouth to answer but was interrupted by a rather grim Dale.

 

“I don’t want to alarm anyone but, we may have a bit of a problem.” Concerned Rick stood up to help but Daryl grabbed his sleeve.

 

“Your boy’s got it.” The redneck muttered. “Better we get this sorted so that we have them on hand for tonight.” He handed Rick a machete with a pointed look. Rick looked up to see several camp members already following Dale and sat back down. Shane was dragging a fighting Jim back into camp barely half an hour later. Rick stood up when it looked like his partner was going to lash the man to a tree but Daryl tugged him back down.

 

“What’s going on?” Rick asked when Dale walked by with a rag and bucket.

 

“Jim spent too much time in the sun. He’ll be fine with a little time in the shade and some water.” Dale assured him before continuing down to where Jim was tied up.

 

“How are we lookin’?” Shane asked as he walked up to the Winnebago and Rick. Daryl jutted his chin out in Jim’s direction. Shane glanced back to where Jim was being fanned by Jacqui. “If we can keep his temperature down for the next few days he should be fine. I’m more concerned by what he was doing before we dragged him down to camp.” Daryl and Rick both looked up at him inquiringly. “He was digging graves. A lot of them.” Rick frowned, looking at Jim one last time before turning to the bags by his feet.

 

“Daryl, you want to get these out to everybody while I go over the plan with Shane?” The redneck shrugged and grabbed the bag full of assorted melee weapons, leaving the bags of food and other supplies for Rick to put away. Shane listened as Rick described the formations and tactics he thought the group should all know and helped hash out what safety rules everyone should follow. 


	4. Episode 4: Wildfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationships start to fray and Walkers attack.

Walking Back Episode 4: Wildfire

 

“Have the weapons all been passed out?” Rick asked when Daryl walked up to them a while later.

 

“Yeah, Le’s hope we don’ need ‘em.” He muttered. Louder he said: “I passed ‘em out ta all the other men an’ several of the women.” He squinted up at Rick. “Your ex-wife was particularly resistant; forbade me from handing one ta Carl. I’m thinking that while the fish are being cooked up we should start training people ta use them.” Rick nodded.

 

“Yeah, I’ll gather everybody up in the clearing where the deer fell. You’ll keep an eye on the women cooking?” Daryl nodded and started to gather his crossbow, quiver, and the supplies to clean it.

 

“Everyone!” Rick called moving away from the RV. “Daryl and Glenn went into the city and got several weapons for us. While the feast Andrea and Amy caught us cooks I’d like for everyone else to gather in the clearing where the walker was this morning so we can train with them a bit. We’ll go over how to handle weapons safely and effective ways to use them.” People started to protest but Rick wouldn’t stand for their grumbling. “There was a Walker in camp!” He shouted at them. “If Shane and I hadn’t been there how many would be dead? It took almost 10 minutes for Dale, Glenn, Morales, and Jim to grab weapons and reach the threat. Ed and several others didn’t respond at all. Everyone needs to carry a weapon and to do that safely everyone needs training. The world as we knew it is gone. The Army and Police aren’t here to protect us. Grab whatever weapon Daryl gave you and get to the clearing. Now.” He chastised.

 

Grumbling and fearful people began to obey. Lori and several of the women pointedly ignored him to tend to the campfires and fish. They all pulled their children close when he came near. He stood watching them work for a moment.

 

“I can’t force you to let me teach your children. But I will say that I’d rather my son know how to protect himself and handle the weapons in camp safely, than for him to get killed because of ignorance.” Lori stood up to protest but he cut her off. “He will _die_ , Lori. He almost died this morning. Do I want him to need to know how to use a weapon? No, but it’s better than the alternative.” The other mothers flinched but kept a tight hold on their children as he herded Carl towards the other group of survivors. He looked around at the 8 men and 2 women that had gathered for training. Shane sidled over to where he stood with Morgan. Taking a deep breath Rick began.

 

“I’m glad you all are here. The first rule is that no one goes anywhere alone. Even in camp use the buddy system. It seems stupid now but for all their moanin’ and groanin’ a Walker can appear out of nowhere, better that you have someone there to help. Next, keep a weapon on you at all times. It’s more use to you sheathed at your hip than in your tent. Do not draw your weapon unless it’s an emergency.” Rick pointed at the two boys. “They are not toys, if you don’t take them seriously I’ll take them away and you will have to stay beside an adult at all times.” He warned them. When they nodded he continued going over the rules. “Walkers don’t go down unless you destroy the brain. The easiest way to do that is to aim for the temple—“He tapped his own temple for emphasis “—or through the eye. To kill them will take about as much force as it would to split a watermelon or pumpkin. Don’t hesitate, you can’t stun them or knock them unconscious. Does everyone understand so far?” They all nodded and he moved on to explaining effective maneuvers and formations. When it started getting too dark he allowed them to go and hoped that they knew enough to survive.

 

Dinner was a happy affair. Earlier in the day Morales had built up the fire pit so that they could have a larger fire safely. There was plenty of fish to pass around and having full stomachs put everyone in a good, relaxed mood. Even knowing that a group of walkers was going to be passing through in the next hour or two didn’t prevent the tension Rick and Daryl had been feeling from easing if only a little bit. Ed was sulking in their tent and no one was really inclined to encourage him to join them.

 

“I gotta ask you, man. It’s been driving me crazy.” Morales said as the last of the fish was being passed around and everyone nursed their drinks.

 

“What?” Dale asked, surprised.

 

"That watch.” Morales answered with a gesture.

 

“What’s wrong with my watch?” Dale asked fiddling with it.

 

“I see you every day, the same time, winding that thing—“ Andrea started nodding in agreement “—like a village priest saying mass.” People around the fire started chuckling.

 

“I’ve wondered this myself” Jacqui agreed putting aside her plate and leaning back in her chair.

 

“I’m missing the point.” Was Dale’s confused reply.

 

“Unless I’ve misread the signs, the world seems to have come to an end.” She answered.

 

“But there’s you—winding that stupid watch.” Morales continued.

 

“Time. It’s important to keep track—isn’t it? The days at least.” Dale appealed before turning to Andrea. “Don’t you think? Andrea? Back me up here.” She shakes her head and people chuckle again.

 

“I like what um, a father said to a son when he gave him a watch that had been handed down through generations.” Dale told them. “He said, I give you the mausoleum of all hope and desire, which will fit your individual needs no better than it did mine or my father’s before me. I give it to you, not that you may remember time, but that you may forget it, for a moment now and then, and not spend all of your breath trying to conquer it.” There was silence as the group soaked in this wisdom.

 

“You are so weird.” Amy told him causing the others to laugh.

 

“Not me. It’s Faulkner. William Faulkner.” Dale told her with a smile. Amy got up from here chair attracting her sister’s attention

 

“Where are you going?” Andrea asked, alarmed.

 

“I have to pee. Jeez, you try to be discreet around here…” Amy grumbled, causing more laughter.

 

“Hold up.” Daryl called, standing. “We collected some toilet paper in town. I’ll give it to ya.” He walked her over to his truck and handed her several rolls before escorting her to the RV and lingering by the door. When she had finished her business she stood in the door way to thank him, a Walker came around the open door and grabbed her arm. Daryl was quick to kill it with his buck knife before it had a chance to bite down on her arm. Her scream attracted the attention of most of the group. While they were distracted a rotting pair of arms reached out of the dark and pulled Jacqui back to take a chunk out of the poor woman’s neck.

 

“Walkers!” Rick shouted in warning. “Keep together and move towards the RV!” He ordered whipping out his pistol and ushering those nearest to him away from the woods. He saw Daryl push Amy into the relative safety of the RV and begin killing any Walkers circling around the sides of the large vehicle. Shane stood his ground and took out any threats approaching from the lane of tents. They managed to keep the bulk of their group together and make their way up to the RV itself. With non-combatants out of the way and only one entrance, it was a lot easier for 7 fighters to defend the vehicle.

 

People who had been sitting at other campfires managed to stick together and defend themselves long enough to join those fighting in front of the RV. Within ten minute the 26 walkers were dead. Stunned, everyone looked around at the aftermath of the battle. One of people who had been around another campfire groaned in pain a ways away. A few tents had holes in them from Shane’s shotgun. Corpses littered the ground around them. Sobs could be heard from inside the Winnebago.

 

“Is anyone hurt?” Rick asked, holstering his knife and gun. Most people answered in the negative as Jim came up the hill from where he’d gotten separated in the chaos. Jim looked around as people clung to their loved ones.

 

“I remember my dream now.” He announced, face dripping with Walker blood. “Why I dug the holes.” Rick looked around and swallowed the despair in his throat.

 

Everyone was too exhausted to deal with all of the bodies in the dark so, after searching for any survivors, he had them all pile into the RV as best as they could and set a watch with several people at a time. One of the women that Rick had never learned the name of remained crouched, sobbing, over her husband’s corpse all night. At the first sign of light everyone was woken up to start going through the dead. Quietly Rick and Daryl approached the grieving woman. Rick kneeled down next to her and gently pried her away, holding her close to comfort her and to shield her from the sight of Daryl gently sliding his buck knife into the base of the dead man’s skull. When it had been assured that the man wouldn’t be rising again Rick let go of the struggling woman and they left her to her grieving.

 

Rick refused to allow the Walker bodies to be burned next to the RV like they had before. It was too close to camp. While the women cleaned up camp and performed the basic chores the men ensured that none of them would be reanimating and hauled the bodies to where the graves had been dug. Morales and another man started to haul a body to the wrong pile.

 

“What are you doing? This pile is for geeks.” Glenn demanded, upset. “Our people go in that row over there.” He told them gesturing. “We don’t burn them we bury them!” When the men tried to argue Glenn just repeated: “Our people go over there!”

 

“We’re Human.” Daryl told them when he walked up. “We can’t hold onta much of anythin’ from before but we still need ta bury our dead. To mourn. Destroy the brain so we’re safe and then put ‘im in the row with the rest.” Daryl ordered. When the two men started hauling the body in the right direction Glenn sniffled and thanked the gruff redneck before returning to his task of collecting firewood for when they burned the Walkers.

 

“He’s been bit!” Someone cried from by the tents. “Jim’s been bit by a Walker!”

 

“I’m okay. I’m okay!” Jim cried in response as the alarmed members of the camp began to circle him. He grabbed a shovel when Rick tried to approach him.

 

“Easy Jim.” Rick said holding both hands out to show that he was unarmed.

 

“Grab him! Grab him!” Shane ordered circling closer.

 

“Jim, put it down.” Rick told him trying to calm the man. When Jim’s back was facing him T-Dog managed to grab Jim’s arms which allowed Shane to pull up his shirt showing a perfectly shaped human bite. Jim chanted: “I’m okay,” all the while. Daryl cursed earning him a glare from Lori who was crouched with Carl nearby. Rick guided Jim to a seat in the shade and met up with several other group members to discuss what they were going to do.

 

“I say we put a blade in his skull and be done with it.” Daryl told them rather bluntly.

 

“Is that what you’d want? If it were you?” Shane asked him reproachfully.

 

“Yeah, and I’d thank ya while ya did it.” Daryl told him honestly.

 

“I hate to say it—I never thought I would—But maybe Daryl’s right.” Dale said. Rick opened his mouth to clarify but one of the other survivors spoke up first.

 

“Jim’s not a rabid dog, Dale. We can’t just put him down. If we start down that road where do we draw the line? He’s a sick, sick man. We need to get him help. I was thinking that we should go to the CDC.” Everyone started to protest but the man just spoke over them while looking Rick in the eye. “It’s based here in Atlanta, if the government would focus on protecting anything that would be it, right? Maybe we could learn more about this thing, maybe they’ve been able to come up with a cure!”

 

“Maybe you’re right and the CDC still exists, but they’d be at an army base where it’s easy to defend and heavily armed.” Shane counter argued. He turned to Rick. “I think we should head towards Fort Benning.”

 

“That’s a hundred miles!” Lori cried, dismayed.

 

“It’s outside of the danger zone and fortified!” Shane argued.

 

“The Military were at the front lines of this thing and they were overrun.” Rick pointed out. “Besides we didn’t exactly live in the hot zone either and home’s nothing but a ghost town now.” Frustrated Shane asked Rick what he thought they should do.

 

“We can’t stay this close to the city. We should look for a farm or gated community we can fortify and start stocking up for winter. We can start by heading south towards Fort Benning if you want but we should be on the lookout for a place to settle. The end of the world is here for a good long while.” Rick told them.

 

“I still think that we should go to the CDC.” The one man insisted.

 

“You still can, but I have to do what’s best for my family.” Rick told him before turning back to what he’d been doing before the revelation of Jim having been bit. When Daryl followed his example and went back to putting a pickaxe in the head of all the corpses most of the rest of the group scattered.

 

“I should do it.” Carol said walking up to Daryl as he moved over to Ed’s body. “He’s my husband.” She sniffed tearfully. Daryl eyed her warily before cautiously handing the heavy tool over. The head of it thunked on the ground when she didn’t put enough strength into lifting it. She stumbled a bit when she did manage to get it over her head and she choked back a sob as the point came down on the abusive man’s head with a squelch. She groaned at the effort as she pulled the tool out and brought it down again. After five or six swings Daryl gently coaxed it out of her hands and led her away with an arm awkwardly placed around her shoulder. He handed her off to a slightly surprised Dale who was quick to comfort the battered woman.

 

Shane argued with Rick about moving the camp and where they should go while the two men were alone digging the graves a little deeper. The arrival of Daryl with the dead ended the argument rather abruptly. Both men missed the nearly murderous glint in Shane’s eyes as he watched them confer quietly before getting to work putting the bodies in the graves. Lori tried to talk to Rick on the walk back from the funeral but he kept his replies short and impersonal. A little while later while Rick was talking to Jim Shane approached Lori.

 

“You need to talk to that husband of yours, convince him that going all the way to Fort Benning is the best thing.” He told her. She laughed self depreciatingly.

 

“Even if I could get him to listen to me I can’t afford to argue with him, not with our marriage the way it is.”

 

“You would risk peoples’ lives to fix your marriage?” Shane asked, incredulous.

 

“People can make their own decisions without bringing my marriage into it!” She snapped back. “It’s a habit you need to break.” She hissed.

 

“I guess I’ll just add it to the list of habits I’m breaking.” He told her. “Whether I like it or not.”

 

“What habits?” Rick asked, stepping down from the RV.

 

“Just talking about my need for a plan, man. Are we leaving or what?” Shane lied smoothly, with a speaking glance to Lori. “Or we could just stay here, hang some more tin cans. We’ll be in a prime spot to be found by the military when they come to retake the City.”

 

“Tin cans aren’t going to work and Atlanta won’t be reclaimed anytime soon.” Rick told him moving to leave until Lori stepped in his path.

 

“I was just telling him that I think we should follow your gut.” Lori added. He eyed them both speculatively, and opened his mouth to respond before closing it without having said anything.

 

“Let’s go do our sweep.” Shane offered. Rick nodded and the two of them walked off towards the woods. Dale and T-Dog followed behind them, the two pairs splitting in different directions just past the tree line. Once Dale and T-Dog were out of sight Shane set about convincing Rick to see things his way.

 

“I don’t think people are convinced, man, you know?” He said. “You might be the only person scrounging around for a place while everyone else is safe in Fort Benning. Do you really want to put Lori and Carl in that position?”

 

“It doesn’t really matter what everyone else decides. I have to do what’s best for my family.” Rick told him.

 

“And doing what’s best for them is exposing them to all kinds of risks raiding and exploring unsecured buildings?” Shane asked.

 

“As opposed to what? Crossing 100 miles of hostile territory for a probably nonexistent sanctuary?” Rick demanded. He shook his head. “I’ll not risk Carl for that.”

 

“And what about Lori?” Shane asked.

 

“For Carl’s sake we’ll need to travel together, but we’re not in a relationship. That ball is in your court.” Rick told him, irritated.

 

“She was your wife three days ago; did you not love her at all?” Shane accused, angry at how changed his friend seemed to be since waking up from his coma.

 

“Haven’t you already been in a relationship?” Rick returned feigning nonchalance. Shane stopped, stunned.

 

“I didn’t—She was—“Shane started, caught off guard. “We thought you were dead, you have to know that I would never—That I never—“He tried to explain, but Rick was angry and not in the mood to hear the excuses for why his friend and wife felt justified in their betrayal.

 

“Expected me to still be alive?” Rick interjected. “Well I was. And not that it’s really anyone else’s business, but apparently Lori wanted a divorce before the world went to shit. I found the legal papers to prove it.” The two of them stared at each other angrily for a moment before a branch snapped somewhere nearby distracting them from their quarrel. Rick put up his rifle and gestured for Shane to go one way while he went another.

 

Shane carefully crossed one way scanning the forest for any threats when his barrel swept past Rick’s unprotected back. He found himself unable to resist allowing the gun to linger on Rick’s form. It would make things so much easier if Rick was out of the picture. Things would go back to how they had been with Shane in charge and Lori under his arm. The man who had found them wasn’t his friend. At least he wasn’t the friend Shane remembered. All he had to do was pull the trigger and it would all be right again… Shane exhaled and pulled up on his shotgun, pointing it harmlessly at the sky.

 

“Jesus.” Dale breathed in alarm causing Shane to spin towards the older man who was standing behind him. Shane laughed anxiously and scrambled for an excuse.

 

“I know,” he started breathlessly, ”We’re gonna hafta start wearing reflective vests out here. Seriously.” Shane told him. Dale continued to give him an incredulous look. “Come on, man!” Shane called to Rick who waved. He turned back to Dale as T-Dog walked up to them. “Let’s go. There’s nothin’ out here.” He told them walking back towards camp.

 

Everyone was gathered around the largest fire pit when they got back, they couldn’t all sit around it but no one wanted to be too far from the others. When they were all together, Peters, who had put forth the idea of traveling to the CDC, spoke up.

 

“I know that we’re stronger the more of us there are, but I have to go to the CDC. I have to know what this thing is and what they’re doing to fix it. I’ll take Jim and anyone else who wants to go with me, and I understand if somebody doesn’t.” He announced. Several of the people that Rick didn’t know real well murmured interest.

 

“I’ve known Rick a long time.” Shane told them from where he stood just outside the group. “We can’t know what’s going to happen no matter where we go or what we do. But I trust his instincts, so I’m going with him. We won’t make you join us, but splitting up is not a good idea. If you’re coming, pack up tonight, we’ll leave first thing in the morning.” He told them before turning around and striding to his tent to start packing. Morgan and Duane followed suit, followed by Glenn and Andrea and Amy and Dale. Soon everyone had wandered away from the campfire to get ready to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Argh! How is this ridiculous chapter only one bullet point on my outline?!? It’s taking me forever to get where I want to go and I wrote two chapters in one day! Anyway, eventually Plot things will happen instead of all of these rehashed conversations…


	5. Episode 5: What Lies Ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The quarry group splits up. Rick and Daryl try to figure out how to proceed.

Walking Back Episode 5: What Lies Ahead

 

Shane told everyone which channel to tune their CB radios to as they split into three groups. Morales and his family left for Birmingham. Dale, the sisters, Glenn, Shane, Lori, Daryl, T-Dog, Carol, Sophia, Morgan, Duane, Carl, and Rick consolidated vehicles as much as possible and headed South on the highway. Jim and everyone who had died Rick and Daryl’s first time around but had been saved by their fore planning this time, headed into the city and the CDC. Rick watched both of the other groups disappear into the distance before he climbed into the hatchback he was sharing with Morgan, Shane, and the two boys.

 

Rick was grateful when they started wending their way through the tangle of cars on the highway. The needle of the fuel meter had been hovering on the red “E” for a while and he feared they might not make it. The caravan soon stopped and they heard Dale complaining about the box van’s Jerry-rigged radiator hose when they walked up.

 

“Well at least it’ll be easy to find a replacement hose in this mess.” Rick told the fretting older man when the group gathered around the smoking RV.

 

“A good number of other things too, prolly.” Daryl added sifting through the open hatch of a nearby car.

 

“This is a graveyard.” Lori admonished, looking around apprehensively. Daryl snorted.

 

“Without these supplies we’ll be joinin’ ‘em. Good people that they were they prolly won’t resent us using their things.” He retorted already stuffing food cans into a pink back pack.

 

“Right, well while Dale works on the RV we should all probably see what we can salvage from all these cars. Everyone carries a weapon and we all stick to the buddy system. Carl, Duane, and Sophia, I want you three to stick together and close to our cars. Within eye sight of one of the parents at all times, Understood?” The three children nodded. “I also think that we should keep an eye out for better vehicles. Newer ones that are more fuel efficient and will take less upkeep. We’ve got our pick of the litter.” He gestured to the field of vehicles in front of them. He turned to the two black men. ”Morgan and T-Dog? If you could start filling up our gas cans, the cars, and the RV?” They nodded.

 

“Water and food are a priority,” Daryl started, drawing everyone’s attention, “but it ain’t our only concern. Weapons—be they guns or knives or a bat—batteries, and any medication are the next biggest thing. Keep an eye out for jugs to hold water or gas, and any blankets or winter clothes. It’s warm now but winter’s only a few months away. Finally, collect any soap and toiletries. Wipin’ wi’ leaves ain’t fun and neither is usin’ Lye soap.” Rick paired as many of the untrained with trained fighters as he could. Carol and Glenn volunteered to stick closer to Dale, the RV, and the children. Shane and Lori started looking for better vehicles. Rick, Daryl and the two sisters tried to find a way through the pile up and collect supplies on their way back. They didn’t get far before they heard a scream.

 

One of the corpses sitting in the cars hadn’t been as dead as they thought. It had lunged for Carol when she’d been walking past the open car door. She scrambled out of its reach and tripped back over the short guardrail. The walker stumbled out of the car reaching for her. Glenn tried to circle the car to help her but the vehicle in question was crunched between two others. Carol kicked the body reaching for her and rolled down the ditch next to the highway. She had bolted into the forest before Rick and Daryl had even made it back to the RV.

 

Daryl dispatched the walker with his crossbow before hopping the guardrail and chasing after the panicked woman. Rick ordered everyone to stay near the RV before following after. Rick caught up with Daryl a little ways inside the tree line. The other man was running crouched low to the ground tracking the signs of Carol’s passing.

 

“The woman can run.” Daryl said as Rick caught up with him. “She was out of sight by the time I made it into the forest.” They followed her trail to the creek but lost it there. Daryl squinted up and down the creek but didn’t see where she’d scrambled back out of the water. “Must have waded a ways before getting out of the water.” The hunter concluded with a frown.

 

“Why’s she still running?” Rick asked, panting. “The walker that attacked her didn’t even make it to the forest. Shouldn’t she have realized that she wasn’t being chased by now?” Daryl shook his head.

 

“Fear ain’t logical, ya just run and run and run until you cain’t no more.” He told him.

 

“If this is anything like Sophia’s attack we need to find Carol by tonight or she’ll be in Hershel’s barn by this time tomorrow.” Rick said as he followed Daryl downstream, looking for signs of where Carol might have gone.

 

“Carol’s strong, she’ll survive this.” Daryl disagreed.

 

“ _Our_ Carol is strong. _Our_ Carol has training and experience. This Carol is just as helpless as Sophia.” Rick stressed. Daryl frowned and looked away.

 

“She’s got to make it.” Daryl said before walking away. Rick had packed a few of the radios from the station. He’d given one to Shane and one to Dale to keep in the RV. Watching Daryl tromp farther down the creek he pulled out the radio clipped to his hip.

 

“Shane?” He said into it. The radio crackled for a few moments before Shane replied.

 

“Rick? Any luck finding Carol?”

 

“We chased her trail to a small creek. We don’t know which way she went after that though. You guys should continue collecting supplies. Daryl and I will find Carol.” Rick told him. The radio buzzed for a long minute.

 

“Yeah” was Shane’s eventual reply. “Check in every hour and be back by dark, alright man?” Rick answered affirmatively and began trudging after the agitated redneck. Eventually they did pick up Carol’s trail again. She seemed to have been heading back towards the highway.

 

“Shane, has Carol made it back to camp?” Rick asked over the radio.

 

“No?” was Shane’s response.

 

“Keep an eye out for her. She seems to have headed back towards the Highway.” Rick told him as they hurried to follow the trail before dark fell. When twilight fell and it got too dark for them to see the trail anymore they hurried on to the highway.

 

“Carol?” Daryl called once they broke through the forest. A wall of empty cars before them on the highway. Daryl opened his mouth to shout again but Rick reached out and grabbed his arm.

 

“We don’t know what’s out there.” Rick murmured in his ear. He gestured at the vehicles. “Let’s get to a higher vantage point before shouting at the tops of our lungs.” Daryl frowned but nodded. They clambered up the steep incline to the asphalt. Daryl climbed up the front of a nearby box truck and stood on the top of the trailer. The stream of vehicles extended in either direction as far as his eyes could see. He looked north where the RV and the rest of their group were out of sight beyond the curve of the Highway.

 

“CAROL!” He shouted. He looked out over the expanse but didn’t see any movement. He called out again, waiting but there was no response. Quietly he climbed back down to where Rick was gathering supplies from nearby cars. “If she came out of the forest here she might not have known which direction the group was in.” Daryl told him. Rick nodded in understanding.

 

“We’ll leave a sign on the truck that she can see if she comes out of the woods. If we start a bonfire here it should get her attention if she’s wandering between the cars.” Daryl nodded and started helping to collect supplies and fuel for the fire. Rick let the group know that they’d come out of the woods a little farther south than they’d expected and wouldn’t be back until after dark. Shane seemed unhappy about it but couldn’t argue. Once they had collected all they could carry, even loaded up a stroller with extra, they stood staring at the signal fire for just a moment before starting back for camp.

 

Sophia stood anxiously just inside the circle of cars around the RV. She ran up to them as soon as they came into view. She hesitated just in front Daryl making several aborted motions as if she wanted to hug the quiet man. Wordlessly Rick tugged the bags out of Daryl’s hands and gently pushed him to his knees. No sooner had the ragged pants touched ground when Sophia had her arms wrapped around his shoulders and was desperately clutching on to him. Daryl looked up at Rick at a loss on how to comfort the now sobbing girl. Rick put the bags down and mimed wrapping his arms around someone and patting their back. Hesitantly, Daryl reached around her thin shoulders and began to cautiously pat her back. Rick shouldered the bags and pushed the stroller and supplies to where Shane and Lori were waiting by the RV door.

 

Both of them were tense and unhappy looking causing Rick to frown. He had assumed that they would resume their relationship now that Rick wasn’t in the way, even be united in their disapproval, but it seemed that wasn’t the case. There went his and Daryl’s hope that Lori would stabilize Shane. He eyed them warily as he added the supplies they’d collected to the pile.

 

“A stroller, Man? You and your buddy Daryl have some news to announce?” Shane sneered, angry. Rick thought about saying something sarcastic back but just shrugged instead.

 

“If it works…” He answered instead, casually. He watched Lori eye the stroller with apprehension and fear, subconsciously gripping the front of her shirt by her abdomen. “We left a sign for Carol pointing towards the RV.” Rick continued, pretending not to see the action. “We need to plan not only what we’re going to do tomorrow but some contingencies for when we get separated or have other problems.” Shane nodded and followed Rick as he slipped past Lori’s reaching hands and into the RV.

 

An hour or so later, as they were contemplating where everyone was going to sleep Daryl carried in a sleeping Sophia. They settled her and the boys in the back room of the RV. Rick and Daryl removed the chopper out of the bed of Daryl’s truck so that they could lay their sleeping bags in it.

 

Several hours after everyone had settled down to sleep the truck bed rocked with the weight of someone climbing onto the hitch. Both he and Daryl sat up, knives at the ready as one slim leg threw itself over the back of the truck.

 

“Daryl?” Sophia called softly when they moved. Daryl huffed in relief.

 

“Whatcha ya doin’ up, girl?” Daryl responded helping her into the truck bed.

 

“I had a bad dream. Mom came back, and she was one of them, and she-…She tried to…” Sophia took a shuddering breath as Daryl pulled her into her arms. Rick tucked her in between them while Daryl whispered reassurances that he and Rick wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Rick woke up to Carl crawling into the truck a little before dawn the next morning. As Carl settled under the blankets with a sleepy Sophia between the two men Rick and Daryl shared a sleepy, contended look.

 

Carl was eager to show him and Daryl the kit of axes and other melee weapons after breakfast. Daryl ruffled his hair and thanked him before warning him not to hurt himself with them. Rick was confused to see Lori shoot Shane a dirty look after witnessing the interaction. He really needed to figure out what was going on between those two. Despite their worries, Rick and Daryl felt refreshed and relaxed as the group got ready for the day.

 

Daryl took Glenn and T-Dog to the farmhouse where he'd found evidence of Sophia in their first life under the pretense of looking for where they’d lost Carol’s trail the other day. Rick, Shane, and the two boys planned to walk up and down the creek hoping she might have returned to a familiar landmark. Rick passed his radio to Daryl so that the different groups could communicate with each other before they left the others to scavenge cars.

 

It was quiet, walking along the creek with the boys and Shane. They came across a tent with the corpse of a man who had committed suicide. Rick forbade the boys from entering the tent. And then nearly threw up his breakfast from the smell. They collected the few supplies they could and moved on. Rick concluded that it must have been a Sunday when they went looking for Sophia before, because they didn’t hear the church’s bells at all while looking for Carol.

 

A little after noon the small group turned around to go up the other side of the creek and head back to camp. Rick slowly let out a breath. They were past they were past when Carl should have been shot. They were in another area on another day in another life. He breathed a sigh of relief that Carl would stay safe this time.

 

There was the crack of a shot gun and Carl collapsed with a cry of pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, spell & grammar check does not like Daryl's speech when I write it. For some reason this amuses me.
> 
> No one has been obnoxious but I would like to point out that with everything going on in RL it would be silly of me to even suggest regular updates. I'm sorry, I'm a bad person with very little discipline for goal completion.
> 
> Also, this is only the beginning of the Evil, EVIL things I have planned for Rick and Daryl. I cackle inside when I write this.


	6. Episode 6: Bloodletting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carl gets help, they "meet" the Greene family, and things continue to become complicated.

Walking Back Episode 6: Bloodletting

 

No. 

 

NO.

 

NO!

 

 “CARL!” Rick collapsed onto the ground next to Carl’s body. Shane had his rifle up and aimed in the direction that the shot had come from. Rick quickly tore off his belt and shirt which he wadded up to press against the wound. The pressure caused Carl, who was still conscious, to cry out in pain. Rick realized that Duane was kneeling nearby, hovering worriedly over his friend.

 

“Duane” Rick snapped as he tried to tighten his belt over the padding so it would stay in place. “I need you to keep an eye on the woods.” Duane stared at him, eyes wide with terror. Rick took a deep breath and tried to reign in his emotions. If he panicked it would all fall apart. The emotions he’d been swallowing the last few days threatened to overwhelm him. Carl needed him to be strong. “Carl needs us to be strong.” Rick told the boy after a moment. Carl’s name seemed to pierce the fog of panic for Duane. “He needs you to watch out for Walkers. I promise you I won’t let him die, but until he’s safe you need to watch the woods.” The boy took one shuddering breath and scrubbed at the tears on his face before standing up, withdrawing his knife, and turning to watch the forest behind Shane. With a fortifying breath Rick gently turned Carl onto his uninjured side. There were sounds of someone tromping through the underbrush.

 

“Stop right there!” Shane demanded; his mouth twisted into a snarl.

 

“Oh God. I-“The newcomer panted. “I thought you were some of the infected!” The man cried. “I didn't- God-“The man rambled.

 

“If you can’t help us get the fuck out of here!” Rick shouted at him, not in the mood to deal with the man’s bumbling.

 

“I can! Well—I live with a guy who can!” The stranger told them. “I’ll show you, the farm’s about a mile this way, come on!” Rick didn't need to be told twice. He had Carl in his arms and was facing the large man in overalls before he’d finished speaking. They hadn't gotten more than a few yards when there was the sound of something moving through the underbrush.

 

"Rick!" Daryl shouted, charging through the underbrush. T-Dog and Glenn tripped out of the woods behind him. "We heard the gunshot. What happened?"

 

"Dumbass mistook us for walkers." Rick bit out, wheezing as he continued to run towards the Greene family farm. His body had been in a coma for months and, having only been awake a week, he hadn't had a chance to rebuild his lost muscle. It was a struggle to carry Carl, let alone doing so while running. His son cried out in pain when Rick tried to shift his grip. Seeing Rick's struggle, Daryl unslung his crossbow from his shoulder and passed it back to T-Dog.

 

"Here," he said, "let me have him. You an’ Glenn run ahead. Where we goin'?"

 

"Doctor." Otis panted from behind them. "Around a mile ahead, head east when you hit the road. Name's Hershel Greene." Rick stopped to carefully pass Carl over to the red neck. He combed his fingers through the boy’s hair once before turning to Shane.

 

"Keep an eye on Duane and this guy." Rick ordered pointing to Otis. Shane nodded and Rick took off into the woods with Glenn on his heels. He pulled the walkie-talkie off his belt. "Dale! Dale! Come in!" he shouted into it, running as fast as he could to the Greene Family Farm. The radio crackled.

 

"Rick?" Morgan asked. "Did you find Carol?" Rick didn't respond immediately, trying to catch his breath enough to speak.

 

"No, Carl's been shot." he answered.

 

"Duane?" the other man demanded.

 

"Fine. He's fine. There's a doctor. We're headed to his house. Leave a sign for Carol and get ready to move out." Morgan answered affirmatively. "You'll have directions the moment we do." He told the other man before clipping the radio back onto his waist. He picked up his pace.

 

They could see the farmhouse when they broke through the tree line. The pair cut diagonally through the field only to be stopped by a fence less than 100 yards from the front door. Maggie stood on the porch with a rifle.

 

"Don't Shoot!" Glenn shouted as he threw one leg over the fence.

 

"I'll wait here for Daryl so that he doesn't have to go around. Be careful approaching the house, they're not expecting us." Glenn nodded and walked towards the house with his hands up in surrender. Rick turned to the woods, watching for his son.

 

When the others made it to the field Daryl broke away from the rest and headed straight for Rick. T-dog and the others went around to the gate. Rick glanced at the porch. Hershel stood sternly at the top of the steps, Glenn at gun point just behind him.

 

Daryl carefully handed Carl to Rick over the fence before jumping the stile himself. Rick started jogging towards the house as soon as his son was secure in his arms.

 

"Was he bit?" Hershel demanded when Rick passed the mailbox. Rick shook his head.

 

"Shot. By your man." Rick told him. With a stony face the veterinarian held the screen door open for him.

 

"First room on the left" He told him as Rick carried the limp boy into the house. Carl moaned as he was set on the spare bed. Patricia was setting up the last of the equipment when Hershel began to remove the make-shift bandage. "Your son?" the older man asked. Rick answered affirmatively, the world muffled and swimming around him. Patricia pushed him into a nearby chair when he began to sway on his feet. Hershel looked up when a commotion broke out by the door but quickly resumed his work. "Your son was lucky,” He told Rick, “it looks like the bullet missed the brachial artery." He commented, lifting the bloodied shirt from the wound.

 

"Good." Rick murmured distantly. After a moment he roused enough to say: "his mother, she's with the rest of our group. There's only 10-12 of us. Can we please bring them here? Please?" he begged. Hershel observed him coolly for a moment before sighing.

 

"Patricia, have Otis and Jimmy fetch the rest of their group." He told the woman. She nodded and left to do as bid. "You're responsible for them and I expect everyone to abide by _my_ rules." he told Rick.

 

"Thank you, thank you so much!" Rick breathed nearly crying in relief and gripping his son's limp hand.

 

"Who died and made you King, Dixon?" Shane's voice could suddenly be heard over everyone else.

 

"You've been too busy mooning after yer best friend's ex-wife, somebody had ta do it." Daryl retorted.

 

"Hey!" T-Dog barked, "Knock it off! We've got bigger problems to deal with." he admonished. There was some grumbling before the front screen door slammed and Daryl skulked into the room.

 

"Needs a damn attitude adjustment” the redneck muttered to Rick earning himself a dirty look from Hershel.

 

"I'm going to start removing the bullet fragments now." Hershel told them. Patricia tried to shoo Daryl out of the room but the man refused to budge from Rick's side. A barely conscious Carl was instructed to bite down on Rick's ruined belt. Rick's heart throbbed as Hershel began his work and Carl screamed in pain. It was agony, having his son awake for this. Shane hadn't been sent off for the equipment needed to put the boy under anesthesia, so this time his soon would have to suffer through the removal of the seven bullet fragments. The world became hazy as Rick's focus narrowed down to his son.

 

When Lori arrived at the farm house she tried to attack Hershel for hurting her son. Daryl had to haul her bodily out of the room. Rick didn't even notice, numb to everything but his son. He vaguely remembered agreeing to supplying blood for a transfusion, but only barely. Eventually the cries stopped and white bandages were tightly wound over the wound.

 

Somebody shook his shoulder and Rick blinked. He tilted his head up to see Daryl standing over him, a cleaned up Hershel standing on the other side of the bed. He realized that at some point the medical equipment had been cleared away and Lori had climbed onto the bed behind their son. Seeing his attention Hershel began his report.

 

"Your son is incredibly lucky." He told them. "The joint will be stiff and we won't know for sure if there's any nerve damage until it heals a bit, but there's no reason he shouldn't regain full functionality of his arm." Rick scrubbed at his face with his hands feeling exhausted. Daryl thanked the veterinarian, Rick echoing tiredly. Hershel nodded and left the room. They sat in silence for a while.

 

"You should eat and get some sleep." Daryl announced. "Lori can stay with Carl," he continued, talking over Rick's protests. "You're no good to him dead on your feet and you won't get any rest here." he argued, hauling the former deputy to his feet.

 

“He shouldn’t have been shot at all.” Rick grumbled nearly limp against Daryl’s side. Daryl glanced at the still open door way before responding.

 

“We can’t change everythin’. Some things are jus’ gonna hafta happen.” Daryl told him quietly. “C’mon,” He said louder, “Food, then sleep.”

 

Rick’s legs were weak and sore. He groaned as his stiff muscles began to move. Daryl chuckled at him as he helped him hobble to their little camp. Amy passed them each a plate of beans which Rick dug into with surprising hunger. Sophia attached herself to Daryl’s side as soon as he entered camp, impeding his ability to eat. Rick just chuckled at the other man’s frustration. Once they were both done eating Daryl dragged him over to his tent at the edge of camp, where it had been strategically placed between the barn full of Walkers and the rest of the group. Tiredly he kicked off his boots and collapsed onto the nest of sleeping bags.

 

“I miss beds” he sighed, tugging a reluctant Daryl down next to him. Sophia cuddled into the redneck’s other side and eventually the man gave in. The hunter was uncomfortable with physical affection, including cuddling, but Rick needed that reassurance of Daryl’s presence, so he pressed their backs together. Rick was asleep in seconds.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

Rick woke up surprisingly well rested a little before dawn. Daryl was changing into some clean but dingy looking clothes. Sophia was still sleeping, snuggled into Rick’s side, eyes puffy and red with tear tracks that cut through the grime on her little face. He gingerly sat up, trying to avoid waking the girl even as his muscles protested against moving. He was sore beyond belief from running the day before and he resolved to get back into shape. Daryl crouched down by him and started to help him change into cleaner clothes. He hissed when Rick peeled the dirty bandage off his side to reveal where the bullet had torn through his chest.

 

“Your ex-wife’s a piece of work,” Daryl told him without preamble. “Halfway through removing the bullets, Hershel took a break to gather some more supplies. Lori grilled the man and then flipped out when he told her he was a veterinarian.” Rick chuckled as Daryl pulled him to his feet. Daryl continued, “I asked her if she’d rather do it when she started to bitch too much."

 

“Yeah,” Rick replied with a smile, “She didn't take it too well the first time either.” They both ducked out of the tent still laughing quietly. Glenn waved at them from on top of the RV, barely visible in the pre-dawn light. “Did you have any problems keeping everyone in order last night?” Rick asked as they tromped through the dewy grass towards the house.

 

“Carol was never at the farmhouse. The trail’s gone cold.” Daryl told him quietly. Rick sucked in a breath and tried not to let the grief hit him just yet.

 

“We have a couple of weeks here to convince Hershel to let us stay and find Carol’s trail—to find her.” He told the other man, gripping Daryl’s shoulder, offering the only comfort he’d allow. He ignored the familiar tightening of grief in his chest and tried to be optimistic.

 

“I’m gonna—“Daryl started. They reached the bottom of the porch steps and Daryl stopped, swallowing. “I’m gonna check the barn. After camp is situated.” Unspoken between them was that if Carol was in the barn Daryl wouldn't be able to deal with people, half of whom he’d watched die. Rick opened his mouth to say something, anything, but Shane chose that moment to come out of the house and demand to know what they were doing staring at each other on the porch. Daryl’s face shuttered closed of all emotion outside of his usual scowl as Shane looked down his nose at him. With one last look to Rick the hunter turned away from them and headed back to their collection of tents.

 

Rick sighed and resolved to talk to Daryl later. He turned to find Shane eyeing him suspiciously.

 

“What?” Rick demanded the good mood he’d woken up with gone. He was tired of the people he loved hurting, he was tired of losing people, and he was tired of the suspicious looks from Lori and Shane. Essentially, he was tired of _the entire_ _god damned apocalypse._

 

“What the hell is going on between you and him?” Shane demanded, agitated. “I mean, I thought I was your best friend, which makes me wonder what Dixon is to you?” Shane continued, stepping in the way of the door inside.

 

“He’s a man I can trust to support me; that I can trust with my life, with _Carl’s_ life. He gets things done and tells me when I’m making the wrong choice.” Rick answered honestly, stepping up onto the porch to be on even ground with an increasingly aggressive Shane.

 

“Man, you can trust me to do all of those things! I’m the one who kept Carl and Lori safe. They’re only alive because I had your back, not him!” Shane exclaimed. Rick shushed him, glancing through a window to see if they’d attracted any attention.

 

“You think I don’t know that?” Rick hissed. “That I don’t know that I could never thank you enough for saving my family?!” Rick demanded.

 

“Oh, so now Lori’s a part of your family?” Shane asked snidely and Rick grits his teeth in anger.

 

“Yes, and so are you, and Daryl, and Glenn, and everyone else in our group, because in case you haven’t noticed we’re all we've got. And you’ll remember that I was still married to Lori then. I hadn't found half-finished divorce papers or learned that she’d cheated on me with my best friend.” Rick snapped, absolutely fed up with Shane’s condescending bullshit. The man had betrayed him by sleeping with Lori and had no right to claiming the moral high ground. Shane flinched.

 

“Man, you have to know, we thought you were dead. We would never—we never—before—“Shane tried to justify.

 

“That doesn't change the fact that you broke my trust. It doesn't make it hurt any less.” Rick told him. After a moment of silence he tried to make peace. “I’m not getting back together with Lori. I can’t, after this whole mess. The world now,” He paused, turning over what he wanted to say in his mind. “A person needs to take what happiness they can get with both hands. Lori’s not mine anymore and I can’t begrudge you and Lori having that happiness.” Rick told him pushing past him to the door.

 

“Which is it? Are you setting me up with Lori or pissed that we fucked?” Shane demanded. Rick looked back at him.

 

“Both. It wasn't that you slept with Lori that bothers me; it’s that Lori was my wife when you did it. The world’s over Shane, I don’t have the time or energy to hold grudges. Get with Lori, don’t get with Lori, it doesn't matter now.” Rick turned his back on the other man and trudged into the house. Before, his words to Shane would have been a lie, but he’d had almost a year and a half to get used to the idea of Lori and Shane. He knew he couldn't bear to play naïve to their indiscretions, and that his and Lori’s marriage had been falling apart before the apocalypse—and unsalvageable after—no matter what he’d first pretended. However, Lori had been dead more than half a year ago to him and he thought he could maybe move on and accept her and Shane’s relationship.

 

Lori and Carl were still sleeping peacefully when he entered the small spare room turned hospital room. The sun had finally risen by that point and Hershel was checking what he could of Carl’s vitals. He looked up when Rick entered. Wordlessly, Rick took the seat by Carl’s head like before and grasped his son’s hand.

 

“How’s he doing?” Rick asked.

 

“Providing infection doesn't set in in the next few weeks, he uses a sling, and the muscle gets rehabilitated, he could be back to full health in half a year. One fragment was close to the nerve but he was able to move his fingers. He was a very lucky little boy; it could have been a lot worse.” Rick thanked him for his efforts and for allowing their group to stay on his farm.

 

“Two things, First is that I’d prefer you didn't carry guns on my property. We've made it this far without turning it into an armed camp. Second is: don’t get too comfortable.” Hershel warned him. “In two or three weeks, when he’s no longer in danger of an infection, I do expect you, and your group, to move on.” Hershel told him sternly.

Rick swallowed and looked down at his son.

 

“We won’t feel safe without one armed look out at least but I thought that might be the case.” Rick admitted. “But I’d like the chance to convince you otherwise. Not—“Rick began, holding up his hand to hold off Hershel’s argument. “Not because this place is a sanctuary—an oasis—from the hell the world has become, but because I know that without our numbers and our experience this place will fall and your family with it. You helped us in our time of need, when you had no reason to. I can’t repay that kindness by abandoning you, even if you wouldn't see it that way.” Rick paused, trying to remember talking to Hershel about the walkers in the barn the first time. He knew that he wasn't going to change Hershel’s opinion in one conversation. The man was at the denial stage of his grief process. Unfortunately, with the bodies of his loved ones still shambling around it was harder to move on in the grief process. Instead he would have to give Hershel something to consider, and prove his point later.

 

“This disease, it isn't like AIDS where, with some medication, a person can live a relatively normal life. It’s Alzheimer’s. It’s Rabies. The mind is gone. I cut off one’s head once. The head itself continued to move and try to attack me.” Hershel looked at him for a long moment.

 

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you. My wife and son are alive and moving, and I have to believe that.” Hershel told him before turning and leaving. Rick let him go and hoped he could convince the man some more later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, real life is a bitch sometimes, but I overcame and wrote this and most of Chapter 7(Cherokee Rose) while working full time and still got onto the Dean's List. Yeah! 
> 
> I'm looking forward to finishing Chapter 7 because I think it's going to surprise people which is the best part of writing this. I love to defy your expectations. So, 7 is mostly written--providing Daryl doesn't be stubborn--and I will hopefully get it up sooner than I did this one.
> 
> Have a good weekend!


	7. Episode 7: Cherokee Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group tries to settle in to the Greene Family Farm but nothing ever goes according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! A new chapter! I am still unsure how I feel about this chapter, but after sitting on it for a month I figured it was time to post it anyway. My lovely beta, Renkin-chan, assures me she likes it so... Enjoy!
> 
> * contains some vaguely described sex and violence.  
> *spoilers in end note

Walking Back Episode 7: Cherokee Rose

 

Daryl glared down through the broken well cover. He absently wondered why nothing could be simple as he flipped the cover up and to one side. The smell from the bloated creature sloshing about in the well drifted up to him.

 

“Get Glenn and Maggie—“

 

“Who?”

 

“The Farmer’s girl, the older one, we’ll need them to make a run to town.” Daryl told T-Dog, who was standing over his crouched form trying to see down the well. Daryl scratched at the faint stubble on coming in on his chin and contemplated when he’d get to shave next while he waited.

 

“Daryl? What’s going on?” Glenn asked, walking up to where Dale and Daryl were gathered around the well.

 

“It seems that we’ve got ourselves a swimmer.” Dale told him.

 

“Problem is,” Daryl added, “even if we ge’ it out in one piece the water won’ be drinkable.” He grumbled, contemplating how they were going to fish it out of the well without it biting anyone or having its waterlogged and rotting flesh just fall apart.

 

“Why not?” Glenn asked, leaning over to see. Daryl squinted up at him a little annoyed.

 

“It’s rottin’.” He answered. They just stared at him and he sighed. “Didn’t ya learn abou’ battle tactics in Medieval times? When they would lay siege ta a fortress they’d throw dead things over the wall. People would ge’ sick being so close to the bodies they’d have to give in or die off.”

 

“So?” Glenn asked, confused as to what that had to do with the reanimated corpse in the well. Daryl wanted to groan.

 

“Bacteria!” Dale exclaimed, finally seeing where Daryl was going with his little history lesson. “Bacteria cause a body to decompose, that’s why they smell.  It’s—it’s marinating in bacteria. More than just what makes them turn, but germs that have been making people sick for millennia!” Dale explained. Daryl nodded in agreement still looking into the well.

 

“Okay, so what do we do, shoot it from here and seal the well up?” T-Dog asked, moving aside so that Andrea and Amy could look as well. Daryl tugged a curious Sophia and Duane away from the edge of the well.

 

“No!” Maggie said horrified.

 

“That’s a stupid idea.” Andrea agreed.

 

“Normally I’d say do it,” Daryl answered, “But yeh can’t jus’ turn on the faucet anymo’. If we can we should pull it up an’ bleach the well.” Most of the group protested but after a moment of consideration Dale spoke over them, agreeing.

 

“It makes sense, bleach isn’t potable either but if we run the well for a few hours that should take care of it.” Maggie looked uncomfortable as the others slowly came around to Daryl’s thinking.

 

“Alrigh’,” Daryl said when most of the group had agreed. “Glenn and Maggie, I need ya ta go ta town. Get all ya can find of the usual list: Antibiotics, batteries, food, and the like—“

 

“What about other survivors in town?” Maggie interrupted, Daryl turned to squint up at her.

 

“Girlie, if there was anyone left alive in yer town you’d know it.” He told her before turning back to face address Glenn. “Ask the ladies if they need any…lady products. If ya can find it, grab condoms an’ birth control pills, las’ thing we need is a baby crying.” Glenn nodded and the pair left. He turned to Andrea. “If you an’ Amy, an’ the kids could finish up any chores? See if you can’t get Lori to help.” He asked. Andrea protested being forced to do all the “womanly” things but Amy quickly agreed, pulling her sister back towards camp. Once they had started to walk away he began outlining his plan to Dale and T-Dog. When they had their orders he left to catch some bait for the undead.

 

He swung through camp on his way to the woods. Amy and Andrea were teaching Duane and Sophia how to do the laundry by hand while Morgan manned the lookout on top of the RV. Shane sat at a picnic table cleaning some of their arsenal of guns. Daryl hesitated.

 

“Hey,” He called walking over to the former deputy. “One a’ the rotten bastards fell inta the well. I’m gonna go an’ catch somethin’ ta get its attention with.” Shane scowled up at him. “I’ll be back inna hour.” Daryl told him. Shane continued to give him a nasty look and the hunter shifted, unsure if he should say anything more. He knew that Hershel wasn’t a fan of guns and probably wouldn’t like Shane cleaning their sizeable arsenal in his front yard. He also knew that Shane hated how close he and Rick were and that Shane’s own power within the group had diminished because of it. The aggressive man was itching for a fight. If it wouldn’t make a complete mess of things Daryl would have rather set the man on the walkers in the barn.

 

Daryl opened his mouth to ask the man to move the guns into the RV but thought better of it and walked off to the woods instead. He decided to check some snares he'd set up the night before while Shane was collecting the rest of the group to bring them to the farmhouse. He breathed deep, playing close attention to the sound of the birds and trees in the wind. The stress he had been feeling in camp began to melt away. He had meant it when he had told Rick that they couldn't change everything. He knew it was the truth. It seemed that Carol and Sophia couldn't both survive this hell on Earth. He consoled himself with the knowledge that Sophia wouldn't ever be alone. It hadn't been enough to stop him from worrying about Carol or Carl or even Rick, who was fighting to protect everyone whether they wanted it or not.

 

Daryl knew that Rick was struggling with being back in the past and facing ghosts he'd finally put to rest. Daryl, on the other hand, felt stronger now, steadier. When he had joined the quarry group the first time he had been under Merle's thumb and unsure of his place in the new, undead infested, world. Rick had thrown him off even further. No one had treated him with equal respect and trusted him before. After the barn had been cleared out Daryl had been trusted as a replacement for the wild Shane. Suddenly he could choose who to follow and lead others in his own right. Much later, after getting fed up with Merle's bullshit he had realized that he could stand alone if he wanted but didn't have to. He had known as soon as he had woken up to Merle's smug face and a truck long abandoned that he could make it alone. He also knew that, even if no one else remembered the first time they had all done this dance, he was not going to abandon his family.

 

Daryl reminisced as he walked from one snare to the next. He kept a weathered ear out for the telltale shuffle and groan of walkers even as he relaxed in the open air. After more than a year of dealing with the menaces he could take a leisurely stroll with minimal risk.

 

Daryl had just knelt down to catch a still struggling rabbit caught up in the second snare when he heard a twig snap behind him and had to duck a baseball bat being swung at his head. He whipped out the knife at his belt as he rolled to his feet. He was surprised to find a furious looking Shane as his attacker.

 

"What the fuck?!" Daryl swore at him, not letting his guard down as they circled each other.    

 

"Rick's been different since he found us and the only cause I can find is you." Shane accused. "He left his wife to shack up with you, and your opinion is gold while he dismisses me. I'm fucking sick of it so, you are going to have a ‘hunting accident’. Maybe I'll tell that little girl you seem to love so much that you ran away like the deadbeat you are." Shane spat. Daryl grit his teeth and remained focused on his opponent instead of his words. He couldn't die here. Sophia, Rick, and everyone else in camp needed him. Shane swung the bat at him wildly and Daryl almost tripped over the rabbit still in the snare. Annoyed at his lack of success, Shane threw away the bat and reached for the gun at his hip. Daryl didn't think, he just lunged, the blade of his hunting knife hit the other man's collar bone and skittered off course, clipping Shane's neck. Surprised, Shane stumbled back, clutching at the gash in his throat. It bled thick dark blood, not a bright red spray like Daryl might have expected. White as a ghost Shane choked on his own blood and collapsed against a tree, dead before Daryl had had time to realize what was happening. Daryl stared at the body in front of him, stunned.

 

"Fuck" he uttered, surprised. The sound of the rabbit struggling in the leaves jolted him out of his stunned stupor and he quickly crossed over to the body and plunged his blade in to the skull to prevent the other man from turning. Shaky, Daryl went to run his hands through his hair only to stop and stare at his bloody hands.

 

"Fuck." He stated again. He looked around but couldn't think of anywhere to stash the body while he dealt with the walker in the well. Shane had been a dick but he didn't feel inclined to let the man be eaten by whatever wandered by. What had Glenn said? "We bury our dead and burn the rest"? Daryl stared at the corpse and resolved to come back to bury the body as soon as he could. Conscience now somewhat clear, he turned back to the rabbit and secured it, still alive, to his belt. He washed his hands in a nearby stream and set back to work.

 

Using the struggling rabbit as a distraction they were able to easily rope the swimmer and haul it out of the well. Daryl managed to pull the legs up onto land before the torso tore away, making Maggie gasp in horror.

 

"Jus' 'cause it moves don' mean it's alive anymore." Daryl told her, crushing the grasping creature’s skull in. He left the rest of the clean up to Dale and T-Dog. Claiming to be hunting he went to bury Shane's body. There had been a small hunting cabin with a shovel near where they had fought and Daryl buried the body under an old oak tree. He brought back a few squirrels and a raccoon to distract the group while he slipped away.

 

Quietly he climbed up the ladder into the barn's hayloft. The fading sunlight was bright enough to illuminate the inside of the building. He tucked himself behind a wall of hay bales and eyed each of the walkers in the barn. After a few minutes one shuffled out from underneath his perch and Daryl sucked in a breath. It was a female walker with short-cropped salt and pepper hair. Carol. The walker turned its ravaged, chewed off face towards him and Daryl choked back a sob.

 

~~~~~

 

Rick left to check on their group after Carl had fallen asleep. It was still early evening and the sun hadn't yet set but the boy was worn out from healing. Rick walked up to their huddle of tents as everyone was eating dinner. He frowned when he didn't see Shane or Daryl with everyone else.

 

"Rick?" Dale asked, getting up.

 

"Yeah?" He answered. He watched as Duane consoled and distracted a distraught Sophia.  Dale glanced at the girl and motioned towards the edge of camp. Morgan got up to join them, but Dale waved him back. Andrea frowned at the byplay but no one else seemed to notice. The pair of them walked away from the house and RV to stand on the edge of camp furthest from people. "What's wrong?" Rick asked when they were alone. Dale looked uncomfortable before he spoke.

 

"Daryl went into the woods this morning. Morgan said that he saw Shane follow a few minutes after. He didn't think much of it at first since we aren't supposed to travel alone." Dale told him.

 

"Are they not back yet?" Rick asked, alarmed. Dale took off his hat to run a hand nervously through his thin and sweaty hair.

 

"Daryl came back; the problem is that Shane didn't." Dale took a deep breath before continuing slowly, considering each word. "With how antagonistic Shane has been, I think he may have attacked Daryl, who fended him off." Dale hedged. Rick stared at him and tried to formulate a response.

 

"And what do you think my response should be. If Shane's dead do we execute Daryl? If Shane's alive should we hunt him down and punish him for attacking Daryl? I can't arrest them so they can be tried by a jury of unbiased peers!" Rick hissed. Dale held up his hands and gestured for Rick to calm down. He took a deep breath. "Shane's been violent recently; I've been worried about something like this." Rick admitted. "We can't afford to lose any one let alone one with Daryl's skills-"

 

"It's more than that." Dale accused. "Even those of us who don't know you can tell that there is something going on between you."

 

"I never cheated on Lori, not with Daryl or anyone else. He's probably the only thing holding me together right now and it's not really anyone else's business." Rick hissed. "I'm tired of people thinking it is." They stared at each other in silence for a while, when Rick had calmed a bit he continued. "Daryl told me this morning that Carol's trail had gone cold. He might not have seen Shane at all and is upset about losing her. We don't know what happened and there isn't much we can do either way. We'll tell the group that Shane's missing and that we don't have much hope of finding either him or Carol, then I'll see if I can't find out where Daryl disappeared to." They stared at each other for a few moments.

 

“Okay,” Dale eventually conceded. “You’re right. As much as I would like it otherwise, there isn’t much we can do about Shane’s disappearance. I just don’t want us to forget how to be good people, to lose sight of our morality.” Rick blew out a breath of relief and grasped Dale’s shoulder in gratitude.

 

“We won’t, not with you here to keep us on the right path.” Rick told him gratefully. “Thank you.” Dale nodded his head and they trudged back to the campfire. “I have some bad news.” He announced to the group looking around the circle of people who had come to mean so much to him. Lori walked up to the fire at that moment and he swallowed thickly.

 

“Daryl told me this morning that Carol’s trail has gone cold. We’ve no way of finding her and given the state of things…” Rick trailed off as Sophia began to sob. Amy quietly began to rock the grieving girl back and forth until Morgan got up and helped carry the girl into the RV. After a moment of somber contemplation Rick cleared his throat. “The other thing is that Morgan reported seeing Shane heading into the woods this morning.” Murmurs broke out between the people seated at the fire. “We don’t know why.” Rick continued over their distress, “He didn’t take any supplies with him, so he must have intended to come back. Given that he isn’t, Dale, Morgan, and I think something must have happened to him.” Rick told them.

 

“Fuck.” Glenn said, stunned. Lori sank down onto a log one hand over her mouth and the other clutching her stomach. Rick gave the news some time to sink in before continuing.

 

“We need to learn from this.” He told them. “No one leaves camp without a buddy, not even Daryl. Everyone is going to learn to use a knife and gun. If something happens and you get separated from the group we will meet up at the north end of the traffic jam on Highway 403. It’s the same place we lost Carol.” He looked around at everyone’s sad and tired faces before ordering them all to bed.

 

Numb, they slowly shuffled off to do as bid. Rick thanked Andrea for watching over Sophia as she moved to pass him. When he looked up from speaking with her he found that Lori had already disappeared into the house. After everyone had disappeared into their respective sleeping places he went to the tent he shared with Daryl. After grabbing a few supplies Rick turned to the barn and made his way across the field between them. He listened to the shuffle and quiet moans of the undead, bracing himself for what he might find at the top of the ladder.

 

“Daryl?” He called softly into the loft at the top. There was movement on the other side of a small stack of hay bales to his right. The former deputy climbed over the barrier as quietly as he could.

 

Daryl was nothing more than a slightly darker blob in the barn’s shadowed interior. After a few moments of groping blindly Rick managed to grab one of the hunter’s tense shoulders. Carefully he gripped the other man’s neck and pulled him close enough for their foreheads to touch.

 

“Let me hold you together for once.” Rick pleaded softly. Daryl held out for a few more seconds before sagging against him with a sigh.

 

“Shane, he—“ Daryl tried to start, his voice tight with emotion, but Rick just slotted their lips together for the first time since they had come to the past. Between Rick’s grief over Lori’s betrayal and death, and the abuse and isolation Daryl had suffered growing up, their intimate relationship had never really been the wild passion romanticized on TV or in books. Instead, it reminded Rick of the warm constancy of his grandparents’ marriage: immutable and wordless. They found more intimacy in talking and working together than in sex. So, naturally, sex was actually only a small part of their relationship. Often it was only used to “scratch the itch”, but Rick had found that it was also one of the only emotional outlets Daryl allowed himself.

 

Daryl felt his failure to Carol and the sin of Shane’s death keenly. He wanted Rick to be rough with him, to punish him. Rick littered his chest with teeth marks and rode him hard so that, maybe, Daryl would come to forgive himself. Daryl grit his teeth against his cries and moans. Living, packed like sardines, in a small cellblock there hadn’t been much in the way of privacy, they had had to make their own. This wasn’t the first time they’d had sex in the presence of walkers and it wouldn’t be the last. Except for the hushed rasp of straw on wood and the rubbing of slick skin together, they made no noise. Afterwards, Rick used a small penlight to clean them up and check that he’d not done any lasting damage to Daryl.

 

“Her face was eaten off,” Daryl rasped quietly, voice hoarse as if he had been screaming, “but Carol’s definitely here.” Rick finished doing up his belt and groped around for his lover. Daryl allowed him to pull him close.

 

“Sophia will just have to continue to stay with us.” was Rick’s response, giving whatever affection Daryl would allow.

 

“How is everyone reacting to Shane’s disappearance?” Daryl asked, tense. Rick didn’t respond for a moment.

 

“I killed him the first time, remember? How could I hate you for something I did too?” He eventually asked. When Daryl didn’t relax he continued. “You aren’t that kind of man, Daryl.” They lay together in silence for a while.

 

“It was an accident. He attacked me and when I went to retaliate the knife went off course and—“ Rick shushed him.

 

“You don’t need to explain it to me.” He told him. “It’s done and we don’t have the luxury of time to dwell on it. Tomorrow we need to start training everyone to defend themselves. I don’t want anyone wandering alone, not even you, so you’ll probably need to teach someone to hunt with you. I’m not even close to convincing Hershel to clear out this barn and join us.” Rick rubbed at the headache he could feel forming behind his eyes at the thought of all they would need to do to keep alive. Daryl didn't reply but he still hadn’t pulled away so Rick tabled all those problems for a later hour and just sat with the other man in silence for a little longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bwahahaha! I wasn't initially going to kill Shane off yet but I couldn't see him following Daryl into the woods for a chat and actually...chatting so, he's dead now.
> 
> I think what I love about this time-travel/rebirth genre is the creativity it takes to change things while still keeping important events. Big events always seem to hinge on small ones and the challenge is adapting those small events to guide the story to where it needs to be. Killing Shane so soon is going to complicate things for me, and maybe the boys too. ;)
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me, I hope it was everything you wanted. Before you go, however, I have a thought provoking question for you:
> 
> "What 'genre' of fanfiction (IE timetravel, alpha/beta/omega, crossover, etc.) would you like to see (more of) in everyday fiction (IE as a TV show, or novel, or movie)?"
> 
> Me: Timetravel, though it'd be rather hard to maintain the same spirit as there wouldn't be a commonly understood cannon of events... Jaa, atode ne?!


	8. Episode 8: Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hershel is being difficult.

Eventually Daryl pulled away and they finished righting their clothes. Wordlessly they shuffled for the ladder on the outside of the barn. The walk back to camp was silent, they circled camp to approach from the forest side so that T-Dog—who was on watch—wouldn’t know where they’d come from. Daryl ducked into the RV so Rick decided to climb up to talk quietly to T-Dog.

“Everything quiet?” Rick asked as he pulled himself up on top on the RV.

“So far,” The black man answered coolly before turning away from Rick and pointedly ignoring him. Rick blinked at the man, surprised at the cold shoulder. Daryl could be heard exiting the RV and both of the men on the roof watched the hunter carry Sophia to their shared tent. One of the RV’s remaining occupants could be heard settling back down for the night.

“Is there a problem T-Dog?” Rick whispered, he could see T-Dog gritting his teeth in the moonlight.

“What don’t I know?!” The man demanded quietly.

“How do you mean?” Rick asked, not sure what exactly T-Dog was talking about.

“You talk to Daryl, and Dale, and Morgan, and Glenn, but not to me, or Andrea, or Lori, or anybody else. So, what don’t I know? What are you keeping from us?” T-Dog demanded, obviously frustrated. Rick sat back on his heals to assess the other man for a moment. He weighed the decision of sharing all of the secrets floating around (excluding the unbelievable event of him and Daryl seemingly going back in time) or keeping the current status quo at least until Hershel had been brought around.

“Lori and the kids would panic. Even Glenn loses his head when we need him level-headed. Honestly, I just haven’t had the chance to pull you or Andrea aside yet. But you are right, there are things you deserve to know and I haven’t told them to you.” Rick admitted eventually watching the other man’s reactions. “I’m sorry, I’ll try to do better about communicating with you from now on.” Rick promised. T-Dog stared at him for a few moments before nodding in acceptance. “The thing this evening doesn’t really involve you or Andrea. Morgan saw Shane follow Daryl into the woods with a baseball bat. When Daryl returned but Shane did not he spoke to Dale who spoke to me. I have since spoken to Daryl.” Rick shared.

“You think Shane attacked Daryl and Daryl killed him.” T-dog stated.

“Lori doesn’t need ammunition to fuel her anger about us splitting up, and I didn’t see the point in upsetting Sophia with the details.” Rick told him without confirming T-Dog’s theory. He let T-Dog digest that information for a moment.

“There is something I need you to pass on to everyone who takes watch.” T-Dog nodded. “I don’t know everything yet and we can’t have panicking, but Daryl went to…brood… in the barn only to find it occupied by walkers.” Rick confided looking grim.

“What?!” T-Dog exclaimed, causing Rick to shush him. One of the RV occupants could be heard moving around inside but they settled after a few moments.

“The barn is secure,” Rick reassured him at a whisper, “Daryl and I checked, but I’d feel better if everyone kept an eye on it just in case. We need Hershel and his family, and I don’t like repaying their kindness by leaving them, however, it’s going to take some doing to convince them to let us stay and to clear out the barn. In the mean time we keep this to as few of us as possible. No causing a panic, alright?” T-Dog nodded seriously, sending a terrified look in the direction of the barn. Rick patted the other man on the shoulder and climbed down from the RV so he could finally get to bed.

~ ~ ~ ~

The next day when Rick was helping Carl through his physical therapy he made sure to extend an invitation for training to the members of the other group. Hershel said nothing to his offer and Rick allowed the matter to drop. He had wanted to start the gun training that day but there was a lot of set up in finding a safe place to practice and creating targets that still needed to be done. Furthermore, Shane was now dead and neither Rick nor Daryl had training in teaching other’s firearm safety so he put that part of the training off for a few days. 

Regardless Carl and the other children would have to wait for firearms training as his son wouldn’t be able to lift his arm for a few weeks let alone bear the kick of their smallest revolver. Both he and Daryl had agreed it would be better for them to learn together. In the meantime Rick would escort Carl out into the yard every morning after therapy to learn how to use “cold weapons”, which Dale had informed them was a term sometimes used for weapons that didn’t use explosions, with the rest of the group. Daryl had demanded to know what it mattered what they were called so long as they were fucking effective. The whole discussion had been over then until Lori realized that Rick intended to include Carl in these lessons.

“It feels wrong.” She had argued, “He was just shot and you would have him learn how to put himself in danger again!” He had tried to point out the necessity of weapons in camp and that it was better for him to know how to handle them safely but she shook her head at him, unwilling to listen. “He’s safe in camp, and he’s only nine! How can you expect him to be mature enough to handle them responsibly? How can you expect him to fight?” She broke down in tears and he had found himself pulling her down on to one of the few chairs around the fire before she collapsed.

“He isn’t safe here, or at our sides, or anywhere. No one is safe in this world. The walkers don’t care that he is only nine. Our son is either strong enough to survive or this world will kill him. I will give him every tool I can to keep him alive, starting with teaching him how to fight.” He had told her before getting up and doing just that.

Over the next few days they fell into a rhythm. Daryl taught hand-to-hand in the morning to everyone while Rick took a shift on watch. They would then have an hour or two break for chores and to relax during the hottest part of the day. Rick had insisted on cutting out lunch except on a few occasions to start rationing the food they had. Breakfast and dinner were timed closer together to make it easier and a small snack was given out just after training. No one had liked it but they had been almost out of food at the quarry and understood what he was trying to do. After their midday rest Rick taught firearms training while Daryl took watch and the night watch person (usually Morgan or Dale as they had actual rifle experience) slept.

To Rick’s surprise Hershel’s farmhand Jimmy joined them for firearms training on the second day they had it, four days after Shane’s “disappearance”. The boy muttered something about wanting to help Otis hunt when he arrived but otherwise kept to himself. They found out why that evening when they got back to camp that night to find Hershel standing at their campfire, pissed.

“Jimmy is only 17.” The older man started without raising his voice. “He’s not my kin but I am responsible for him and I do not appreciate you turning my home into an armed camp and the people I am responsible for into your militia.” Rick rubbed his face tiredly.

“I had no intention of doing either. I offered training to your group so that you may protect yourselves. We’ve been training with sticks and kept all but one of the guns locked up, as we originally agreed. Jimmy came for training by his own desire and I am not inclined to turn him away.” Rick told him.

“I’ve told you before,” Hershel began, gesturing to the mixed camp around him. “You worry about your people, and I will worry about mine.” Hershel motioned for Jimmy to follow him and turned back towards the farmhouse. Rick was tired of fighting the man on this and cut the man off.

“If you truly take responsibility for these people then DO IT!” Rick growled, bodily placing himself in Hershel’s way. “You can tell us to leave and we would go, though we could just as easily take your home. I respect you enough that we would leave. But what would happen then? With us gone you would be here with no defenses and a barn full of rabid undead!” The women and Glenn gasped, having not known about the walkers in the barn. 

“You’ll all die.” Daryl told him, stepping up. “Maggie first, on a supply run the next town over because this one is almost stripped clean. Then it would be Otis or Jimmy when they go hunting or to mend the fences on the edge of your property somewhere.”

“How will you feel then Hershel, as you slowly starve here and your people are whittled away to nothing?” Rick asked. “If you’re lucky a herd of the infected, because they collect in herds hundreds strong, will wander through and eat all of you alive.” Rick nearly spat at the man, angry. Hershel looked away from him, upset and angry and holding on to his denial with everything left in him. Rick took a deep, calming breath and apologized. “I’m upset because you are good people and this world is unkind and the only people I see making any effort to actually survive it are mine. Please, consider our offering.” After a moment he stepped to the side to let Hershel go. The older man pushed passed him without a word and Rick hoped he hadn’t done irreparable damage to his relationship with the man.

Lori marched up to Rick and smacked him.

“How could you?! How could you not tell us that we weren’t welcome to stay?! How could you not tell us that there were Walkers in the barn only a hundred yards from where we sleep?!” She demanded, furious. Rick clenched his jaw and motioned for Daryl to stay where he was. “You’re supposed to protect us!”

“I am!” He roared at her.

“Carol and Shane go missing and you don’t even look! You insist on teaching us to use weapons but then forbid them in camp, how is that protecting us?” She screeched back, eyes white with fear.

“I’m thinking of our future! Hershel doesn’t like weapons and he believes that the walkers are still the people he loves. I’ve been trying to balance everything because we need each other! Everyone who has been taking watch was told to watch the barn and Daryl and I ensure it’s secure every night. Camp is as safe as it can be. As safe as it would be wherever we set up.” Rick told her.

“You still didn’t tell us, about the barn and that we couldn’t stay.” Andrea spoke up.

“And I am sorry about that, I wanted to avoid people panicking. You all know now and I won’t keep such secrets from you again. We’ll give Hershel his space tonight and hopefully he won’t ask us to pack up in the morning. If he does we will go so be prepared for that but I haven’t lost hope that I can convince him to let us stay. Let’s have dinner and go to bed early, whichever way tomorrow goes we’ll need the energy.”

“Lori’s Pregnant!” Everyone’s head whipped around to stare at Glenn. The Asian clapped his hands over his mouth and stared at Rick’s ex-wife in alarm. Dale groaned and covered his eyes. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t keep it in anymore! You were supposed to tell Rick days ago and you keep asking me to run to town for stuff for you but I can’t if I don’t have someone to go with me because we’re not allowed to go anywhere alone and—“

“That’s enough Glenn.” Rick told the young man while watching his ex-wife who, in turn, stared at the ground in shame. T-Dog started to cuss at the woman for being a hypocrite but Rick interrupted his rant. “T-Dog, I want you to go with Glenn tomorrow morning to the pharmacy and pick up anything left related to pregnancy. Formula as well if you can, we’ll probably want to start stockpiling it now. Lori—“She flinched “—you are excused from training from now on, but I expect you to keep yourself busy with work around camp.” He looked around the group. “Does anyone else have something they would like to add?” They all shook their heads or remained silent. “Alright, dinner then bed, let’s go.” Everyone scattered to do their evening chores in silence and Daryl ambled up to where he stood near the fire.

“Yeh think maybe we’re tryin’ too hard?” The quiet man asked him. “I don’ wanna leave Hershel an’ everybody any more’n you, but I think we’re pushin’ too hard. I know they belong wi’ us but maybe we should leave, set up in a school or something, and comeback in a few months.” Rick took a deep breath and held it a few seconds, contemplating Hershel and what he and his daughters meant to him before letting it all go in one big gush of air.”

“Yeah,” He whispered to his friend softly, almost broken. “Maybe we should.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for how late this is. My usual BETAs are friends in real life but we are so busy we only see each other once a week and this is how the conversation usually starts:
> 
> Me: "Hey, _____ did you see I sent you the next Chapter of Walking Back?"
> 
> "Yeah"
> 
> ...  
> ...
> 
> Me: "...Did you...read it?"
> 
> "... No?"
> 
> Me: "Af3k*lj@GB#%!!!"
> 
> So yeah, sad though it is, two weeks after I finished the chapter I finally posted it. Episode 9: "Pretty Much Dead Already" is mostly written but not typed but, soon I think.
> 
> For Fans of my other works, I am almost ready to Post for both "Second Comes Marriage" AND "Me, Myself, and I". Go me.


	9. Episode 9: Save the Last One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everything seems to come to a head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd and hot off the presses. I cut it a little sooner than I normally would but this felt like a better stopping point. On the upside, Next chapter is written but not typed and after next chapter we wander into...uncharted territory~ ;)

Rick woke up the next morning with Carl on one side and Sophia on the other. Daryl had his back to them from where he sat on the other side of Sophia. Rick stared at the roof of the tent for a moment before groaning. He rubbed at his face with one hand tiredly before sitting up.

 

“I fucked it up with Hershel didn’t I?” He asked his partner’s back. Daryl sighed noisily and moved to dress for the day.

 

“I’m beginnin’ to think there’s nothin’ yeh can say to convince him.” He rumbled. Rick sighed and slumped back into their bedding.

 

“Should I talk to him now or closer to lunch?” Rick wondered aloud as Daryl put on his boots. The Hunter offered him a hand up which he took, his body creaking.

 

“Le’s get everythin’ organized before yeh talk to him. Tha’ way we can pack up if he tells us to leave.” Daryl recommended. Rick stretched as much as possible in the tent before dressing himself. Once he was ready they both left the two children sleeping and stepping into the dawning light.

 

“Carl!” Lori called, stumbling out of her tent. “Carl, baby, where are you?!” Rick quickly strode over to her and shushed her.

 

“Shhh…” He soothed, “he’s fine. He crawled into bed with me. He’s sleeping with Sophia in our tent.” She twisted out of his grasp to rush to his and Daryl’s tent. Andrea scowled after her. Rick crouched down next to the blonde and took over cooking breakfast.

 

“Seems like we stick you with the chores a lot, I’m sorry about that.” He told her while she watched him and settled back on the nearby log.

 

“Actually, everyone helps me out a lot so it’s not so bad. I do wish Lori would pull her weight more and stop spout her bullshit about women’s roles in camp though.” Andrea told him and he was glad to know that they were working together without him needing to oversee every little thing. He rubbed his forehead.

 

“I can talk to Lori, but I don’t that it’ll do much. I was thinking about doing shorter watch shifts if you’d be interested in taking one.” He offered, remembering that that had been an ambition of hers in their first lives. She shrugged.

 

“It’s kind of nice to be in charge of making sure things run smoothly.” She told him. “You make the big decisions, Daryl enforces your law and I assign chores. I feel important.” She looked proud to be such an important piece of their survival. They watched Lori herd a tired Carl back to her tent and Andrea leaned in conspiratorially. “Honestly, I think Lori is just jealous that she wasn’t put in charge of the work.” She admitted, watching him plate up breakfast for her. He chuckled.

 

“I didn’t exactly assign the role to you either, but, I am glad someone thought to keep things organized. Speaking of, what do we have in the way of food? I want to be prepared if we have to leave.” Andrea looked surprised.

 

“Are we really going to leave?” She asked. “Why wouldn’t we just force them to let us stay? It’s not like they could stop us.” Rick shook his head, handing a plate to Morgan who had just been relieved of watch.

 

“I don’t want us to be that sort of group. I have faith that with the training we’ve done we could set up elsewhere just fine if need be so why invite that sort of resentment from our neighbors?” She didn’t seem convinced but allowed him to steer the conversation to what they’d need if they had to leave. Next they decided to start on any chores—like laundry—that needed doing while they had the resources and those that couldn’t be done on the road. As they talked camp slowly woke up and gathered around the fire for breakfast. They did the needed chores instead of morning combat training, washing all of the bedding and taking turns bathing. Glenn, Daryl, Otis and Jimmy all left to go hunting together while their food stores were inventoried. When they stopped for midday break Rick trudged up to the farmhouse to talk to Hershel.

 

“Come in” the older man called when he knocked. Rick found his host reading the bible as he ate.

 

“A little light reading for lunch?” Rick greeted causing Hershel to glance up at him.

 

“Been working so hard lately I get my studying in when I can.” Hershel told him continuing to eat.

 

“You know we can help you out with your work—“Rick offers as an olive branch but Hershel cuts him off.

 

“It’s my field to tend!” Rick watches him quietly for a moment.

 

“We found the-the infected in the barn.” Rick announced, slowly.

 

“Leave it be.” Hershel warned. “I don’t want to talk about the barn. I don’t want to debate.”

 

“Not a debate, a discussion.” Rick pleaded.

 

“Like all your other ‘discussions’?” Hershel asked him sharply. “I need you, and your group, gone by the end of the week.” The older man declares. Rick spent some time debating with himself, wondering if he should try to convince the veterinarian or just apologize and leave.

 

“We’ll stay as long as we can. I hope that you don’t let your grief kill you. I hope you reconsider—“

 

“I’ve already thought about it!” Hershel shouts, cutting him off.

 

“Well, think about it again!” Rick snarls, slamming his palm onto the table. “I’m sorry that what I say upsets you but we won’t survive separately so think about it again!” Rick told him before turning and storming off. His expression must have been pretty fearsome because no one asked how his talk with Hershel went. The group of hunters returned with some small game shortly after and they all settled down to learn how to take apart, clean and reassemble their guns.

 

“Aw, hell no.” T-Dog cursed as they were about to put the weapons away. They could see Otis, Jimmy and Hershel leading two walkers to the barn.

 

“He’s going to open those doors and they will come pouring out like a swarm of locusts.” Morgan stated, standing up with his rifle.

 

“Now,” Rick said, gesturing for them to settle, “We’re not going to storm down there and open fire. Dale, Lori, the kids and anyone who wants to will stay here and protect camp. Daryl, myself, and whoever is left will go to the barn and form a perimeter. We are only going to be there in case something goes wrong. No one is to fire unless it is to save a life from imminent danger, am I understood?” Rick ordered. The others were quiet so he asked again for their compliance. This time they all muttered their agreement and split into the two assigned groups.

 

They saw Jimmy run to the ladder and scramble up into the loft as they were approaching. Hershel frowned at them. Rick’s group forming a semicircle around one end of the barn. They could hear Jimmy banging on things inside to draw the walkers’ attention away from the door.

 

“What are you doing with those guns?!” Hershel demanded, alarmed.

 

“Keeping this from getting out of hand.” Rick replied watching Otis unlock the big doors. When walkers didn’t immediately come pouring out Rick had the thought that Hershel’s plan might work. That hope wasn’t to last as the doors suddenly flew open, knocking the older farmhand off his feet. He was swarmed almost instantly by the undead. Beth and Patricia suddenly came running, dashing between the other survivors, to help the fallen man but it was already too late.

 

“Annette! No!” Hershel cried as one of the dead grabbed Beth. As if in slow motion Rick saw Jimmy jump down from the relative safety of the loft to rescue her. Andrea fired at Annette, clipping the undead woman’s ribcage and shoulder, but without a head shot it didn’t so much as slow the walker down. Hershel raised Morgan’s rifle and fired, brain exploding onto Beth. Jimmy's scream turning into a gurgle as two walkers latched onto his throat. Maggie dragging her sister out of the crush of monsters.

 

His people calmly raised their weapons and began eliminating the threat. Rick’s ears were still ringing from the gunfire twenty minutes later when the walkers had finally stopping shambling out of the barn. Glenn let out a whoop and linked arms with T-Dog, pulling the other man into a jig like dance.

 

“Heads up!” Daryl called suddenly, spotting movement in the dark interior of the barn. The figure stood from where it’d been gnawing on Jimmy’s corpse and stumbled towards them. It stepped into the light, the ravaged face and torn clothes unable to disguise who it had once been.

 

“Mom!” Sophia cried suddenly from behind them. Daryl snagged her as she tried to run past and held her close. He shielded her tear streaked face and whispered meaningless things in her ear, rocking gently on the ground. Her mother’s corpse shambled further from the shadows of the barn. Rick walked towards the figure, pistol raised. Sophia cried and pleaded in Daryl’s arms but he couldn’t let that stop him.

 

“I’m Sorry.” Rick told the creature that had been Carol. The sound of his gun seemed impossibly loud.


	10. Episode 10: Pretty Much Dead Already

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hershel and Rick have one last "discussion".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry! Life's been busy since last June. On the upside, I finally typed up this chapter and here it is without any proof reading.

“Were these your step mother’s things?” Rick asked as they investigated Hershel’s disappearance later that day. Beth lay catatonic in the recovery room downstairs.

“He was so convinced she’d get better and they’d pick up where they left off.” Maggie said quietly, stroking a sweater that was half packed. Daryl tossed a flask to him from across the room.

“Looks like he found an old friend.” The redneck commented. Maggie reached out to touch it and Rick handed the flask over to her.

“It used to be my grandfather’s. Dad gave up drinkin’ before I was born, didn’t even allow liquor in the house.” She told them, stroking it with nostalgia. Rick asked her about the bar in town. “Hatlin’s, he practically lived there in his drinkin’ days.” She told him, looking up.

“Then that’s where we’ll find him.” Rick assured her before turning to his partner. “Daryl, you’ll keep an eye on things?” He asked, replacing the items he’d examined back into their box. Daryl hummed positively in response.

“I remember seeing it, I’ll take you.” Glenn spoke up as Rick started for the door.

“Glenn, No!” Maggie cried rushing over to him. The young man rubbed her shoulder comfortingly.

“I’ll be fine, it’ll be an easy run.” He promised. She didn’t look so certain.

“Like the Pharmacy?!” Maggie demanded. Daryl and Rick exchanged significant looks before they left the couple in the room to sort it out alone. Lori was waiting for them in the hall.

“Rick, you want to have a conversation about this before you leave?” She demanded chasing after him as he strode determinedly down the hall away from her.

“There’s nothing to discuss.” He answered curtly as he navigated through the farmhouse. “It might not be the best time for me to leave—“ He began.

“You think?!” She screeched, nearly hysterical, but he continued on as if she hadn’t spoken.

“But after what he did for Carl, preventing Hershel from getting himself killed is the least I can do.” He told her. She was silent for a moment and he almost believed they could leave it at that.

“…Carl told Sophia and Duane that he would have shot Carol himself. That’s your son getting cold. He’s growing up in a world where he needs a father like you alive, around, not running off solving everybody else’s problems.” Rick stopped and turned to her.

“There is no ‘everybody else’ those people out there—“He pointed towards where the tents were set up. “—those people are our people, their problems are our problems. Besides, it’s not just Hershel’s problem I’m trying to solve, or did you forget your own?” She paled. “We need Hershel for the baby. I’m going after him.” He told her sternly, leaving her speechless.

~ ~ ~ ~

Daryl watched Lori fret on the farmhouse porch. He sat on a stump away from camp and angled so he could watch it all as he made some new bolts for his crossbow. They wouldn’t fly as true or last as long, but they did the job and sticks were a lot more plentiful. Andrea was on watch while Morgan and T-Dog sorted out the dead heaped in front of the barn. Maggie was sitting with her sister and Dale had offered to help Patricia try and revive Beth. Lori should have been either minding the kids for Amy or preparing the group meal but she was doing neither, fidgeting uselessly on the porch instead.

Daryl had kind of liked the woman before she died. She had been quieter, but stronger, after they lost the farm. She had known that she had lost Rick’s respect and trust, acknowledged that she had a lot to redeem herself for, but she hadn’t spun her wheels uselessly like this. The Lori that gave birth to Judith hadn’t waffled and simpered and whined. After knowing that Lori, Daryl found this incarnation incredibly aggravating.

Lori had already tried to follow Rick and Glenn in one of the cars and this time she hadn’t asked Daryl to do it first. Daryl watched her try again to find the keys to Shane’s little Honda, pistol tucked into the back of her jeans. The keys to every motorized vehicle with wheels were weighing his pockets down; she wasn’t going to be flipping any cars this go around. Her hunt unsuccessful Lori straightened and looked around before spotting him. Daryl heard the car door close as he examined one bolt for defects.

“Moving to the suburbs?” She called with forced levity, walking up to him nonchalantly. He grunted. There was an awkward moment of silence before she continued. “Listen, Beth is in some sort of catatonic shock.” She told him needlessly. He’d been there when the girl had collapsed, and when Rick and investigated where Hershel had gone, and when the other man had asked him to watch over camp while he fetched her errant father. With both Hershel and Rick gone people were looking to him and he made sure that nothing went on in camp that he didn’t know. “We need Hershel.”

“And Rick just left to get him, so what?” He scowled up at her.

“So,” She spoke like she was speaking to a small child, “I need you to go into town real quick and bring him and Rick back.” Daryl didn’t think her demand was worth a response so he returned his attention to the bolt he was making. “Daryl?” She asked again and he huffed.

“Rick is handlin’ it, I got better things to do ‘n chase after him ‘cause ya think he needs his hand held.” He told her, annoyed now. He wondered how she could have so little faith in her former husband.

“What’s wrong with you?” She demanded. “How can you be so selfish?” Daryl stood abruptly and she stumbled back in surprise. He was fed up with her bullshit.

“Listen Olive Oyl, Rick told me to stay here an’ keep an eye on everyone else, unlike you I trust him! So, go back to the house and watch the kids like you were told to! Rick will be back in his own damn time!” She huffed and turned to stalk off. “And give that damn pistol back to Dale!” She gave him a dirty look over her shoulder before stomping back to the farmhouse.

~ ~ ~ ~  
Rick eyed the low hanging sun with trepidation. The streets were quiet, he didn’t even see any walkers shambling further down. He hoped they would leave before that changed. He still didn’t know what the right call would be to handle Randall and he had no intention of bringing the young man back with them. They had to be gone before the other group rolled into town.

The bell above the door rang as they entered and Rick turned the lock behind them with a decisively. The clack of the deadbolt sliding home nearly echoing in the silence. Glenn glanced back at it nervously but continued up to the arm of the bar Hershel was seated at.

“Glenn?” Rick called, and the Asian man turned to him. “Gather some crates and load them up with the stronger liquors. Start with the Everclear and Moonshine, we can use those as an antiseptic, but don’t grab anything under 40 proof, they won’t burn.” He pulled up a seat next to Hershel. “The cars won’t run on booze but we can make lamps that will.” He reached over and swiped the bottle from in front of Hershel and slid it down the counter. “How many have you had?” He asked staring ahead.

“Not Enough.” The older man told him, nursing his drink.

“Let’s finish this up back at the house. Beth collapsed, in some sort of state, probably shock. I think you might be in shock too.” Rick suggested, glancing over at him.

“Maggie is with her?” Hershel asked, glass halfway to his to his lips.

“Yes, but she needs you.” Hershel scoffed at him.

“What could I do? She needs her mother, or rather, to mourn.” He told Rick. “Like she should have done weeks ago. I robbed her of that. I see that now.” Rick dug deep for the patience to deal with Hershel’s pity party.

“You can’t blame yourself for having hope.” Rick consoled after a long moment.

“Hope?” Hershel laughed humorlessly. When I saw you running across my yard with your boy in your arms I had little hope he’d survive.”

“But he did!” Glenn piped up, placing the shotgun from under the bar next to the crate he was filling.

“That was the miracle that proved to me that miracles do exist.” The other two men said nothing. “Only it was a sham, a bait and switch.” Hershel turned to the former deputy. “I was a fool and you people saw that.” He brought the glass back up to his lips. “My girls don’t deserve that.” He muttered into his glass.

“They don’t deserve to be abandoned either.” Rick chided. He reached out and steadied the other man when he leapt to his feet.

“Stop telling me how to care for my family, my farm! You people are like a plague—!”

“Enough!” Rick snapped. “The world went to Hell long before we met—“ Hershel tried to interject with more vitriol but Rick just continued over him “—and I’ll not take responsibility for your stubbornness. I’m done, I’m not doing this anymore, cleaning up after you. Do you know what the truth is? Nothing has changed.” Rick laughed, a little hysterical. “Death is Death. It’s always been there, whether it’s from a heart attack, cancer, or a Walker, what’s the difference?” Rick took a deep breath, his own words resonating in his chest and mind, and let it out in a great gusty sigh. “You didn’t think it was hopeless before, did you?” He asked quietly. Hershel said nothing, just stared at the liquid still in his glass. “There are people back home trying to hang on and they need us, even if it’s just for a reason to go on, even if we don’t believe there’s hope ourselves. It doesn’t matter what we believe anymore. It’s about them.” Rick told the older man before standing up from the bar stool.

He took one of the two packed crates. Glenn looked between them, uncertain, before jumping the counter. They had just turned to the door with their burdens—Rick’s heart in his throat because they needed Hershel—when they heard the glass slam down on the counter. When Hershel pushed passed them to unlock and open the door Rick felt something in him loosen, he had finally done something right in this timeline. They stepped out and Rick watched the quiet street, expecting the two city men to come strolling around the corner. He wasn’t expecting the burst of gunfire somewhere a few streets over. He shoved his crate into the truck bed and pushed Glenn towards the cab.

“We don’t want to get tangled into whatever that is.” He announced as he slammed the hatch into place and jogged to the driver’s seat with his firearm out. He started the truck up and threw it into reverse. A walker came ambling up behind the truck but he didn’t stop, just hit the gas and mowed it over. The truck lurched as the body went under the wheels on one side and both Glenn and Hershel braced themselves as Rick changed gears again and sped off into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... I'm sorry? A lot happened since June and I haven't been too motivated to write in the Walking Dead-verse. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the most recent seasons and am thinking about how to integrate things that have happened since I first started this fic, if I can integrate anything. I've also come to realize that I have no idea of my endgame, of where I'm going to say "the End". Which has made coming back a little intimidating as the future of this fic stretches before me.
> 
> On the upside, my graduation date is soooooo close. I'll be done with homework forever by Christmas. YAY! Hopefully I'll be able to post before then but, as always, no promises.


End file.
